"Well, now, promise to let me have my own way--just promise that before we go another step--and I will manage it; you shall see." Chester shook his head, and was about to speak, but his wife rose just then half leaning on his chair, her arm somehow got around his neck, and bending her red lips close to his cheek she raised the only hand that was disengaged and folded the fingers over his mouth. "Not a word, John--not a word; only promise to let me have my own way--I will have it--you know that well enough!" "Well," said Chester, laughing, and trying to speak through the fingers that held his lips, "well, go on--I promise--only don't quite stop my breath!" "Very well," said Jane Chester, removing her hand, and clasping it with the other that fell over his shoulder; "now you shall hear." "With our little family, you know, I have a great deal of spare time." "I don't know any such thing, Jane--you are always at work." "Oh, yes, stitching your shirt-bosoms in plaits so fine that nobody can see them; ruffling Isabel's pantalets, and knitting lace to trim morning-gowns and frocks--but what does that amount to?" "Why, nothing, only you and Isabel always look so pretty and lady-like with these things." "Very well--but does all this stitching and so on, help to pay your debts?" "No, perhaps not; but then it pleases me--it sends us into the world well dressed, and"-- "Gratifies your pride a little, hey!" said Mrs. Chester, interrupting him. "Very well, this shall not be all my own charity. You and Isabel shall help--we will all adopt the little girl." "Well, what do you mean--what would you be at?" "Why, just this--all the extra work that occupies me so much, we must do without; you shall be content with clean white linen, and Isabel's frocks and things must go with less trimming--she is pretty enough without them, you know--then I can take in sewing, and earn enough to pay for what the poor little thing will eat. Perhaps she knows how to sew a little; at any rate, she and Isabel will be handy about the house, and give me more time. There, now, isn't my plan a good one? after all, I shall only do about the same work as ever. You and Isabel will make all the sacrifices." "I'm afraid not," replied Chester, drawing his wife towards him and kissing her forehead; "but we shall make some, for I have often thought how dreadful it would be to have you--so pretty, so well educated--obliged to go round from shop to shop inquiring for work; and have felt with some pride, perhaps, that while I lived you should never come to this." "But," said Mrs. Chester, with animation, "if we had no other way--if Isabel were crying for bread, then you would not object--you would give up this feeling of pride--for after all, it is only that."