The coach rumbled on, sometimes smoothly, when Nancy chattered without ceasing, sometimes with din and noise, when she would fall into a pensive mood. Once they had a long pause for a rest or change of horses, and it was then that Nancy rummaged in her bag and drew out a little case of miniatures. ’Ah, my little men!’ she said softly. ’You haven’t seen them, Ally.’ The case held pretty little pictures of Willy and Danny—Willy with his rosy cheeks, and Danny with his mother’s eyes, turned sad and sorrowful. Alison looked at them with delighted interest; these were to be the substitutes, for a while, for Jacky and her sisters. ’You have not seen the mother-half of me, Ally,’ Nancy was saying softly; ’and yet, do you know, I am nothing if I am not a good mother; ’tis my best point.’ ’Yes,’ said Alison, sympathetically, and yet with a faint feeling of surprise. She had heard so much about so many things from her fascinating new friend, but so very little about the children. However, Alison reflected, people always speak least about that which lies nearest their hearts. ’Yes,’ Nancy went on, gazing at the miniatures the while, ’there are friends of mine, Ally, who say to me they wonder I can love the children of such a father. My answer is, I love them the more, owe them the more devotion and duty, for having given them such a father!’ The sentiment seemed unexceptionable, and found instant echo in Alison’s loyal breast. She noticed there was a third miniature in the case, but it was covered with a piece of silk. Nancy now removed this and disclosed the portrait of a young man, extremely handsome, in a dark style, but the reverse of pleasing. ’’Tis he!’ she said, holding the miniature out to Alison, and turning her head away, with a sigh. ’Mr.—Mr. Maclehose?’ whispered Alison, delicately. ’Ay,’ said Nancy, ’my deserter, my betrayer, I may, indeed, call him! For did he not betray my youth, ruin my happiness, destroy my life? And yet, I’m made so, Ally, that I can’t part from his image, but keep it there, with the faces of his innocent children. He was the lover of my youth—I can’t forget it!’ She propped the miniatures up on the seat in front of her, and continued to gaze upon them, with many head-shakings, and soft, moist eyes. But presently the coach went on, and her mood changed utterly; she fell to discussing the contents of a little basket, which the hospitality of The Mains had prepared for her over-night. ’’Twas only meant for one, Ally,’ she laughed. ’Little your good mother thought that two would be at its demolishment! But there’s enough and to spare; the lady has a generous hand.’