“I am very glad that you come home so happy, my children—but what is it all about?” said the grandmother, kissing Joseph on his pure white forehead, while she reached forth her hand to Robert. “Oh! it’s just this. I’m engaged as an errand-boy in a first-rate house for four dollars a week; and Joseph there—who’d believe it of the little shaver—has got a newspaper route ready for him; and he’s ready for it. Between us we mean to support you and Anna first-rate, and dress her up till she looks like a pink. I mean to get her a velvet cloak, like that Miss Halstead had on at the fair, the very first thing, and long, gold earrings, and—and every thing. Indeed, I do. Don’t we, Joseph?” “That’s just what I told grandma when I gave her that twenty-five cent bill,” said Joseph, magnificently. “Said I, get dresses and shawls with it. Didn’t I, grandma?” The grandmother smiled tenderly, smoothed his hair with her palm. “And who is it that you are engaged with, Robert?” she said; “you have not told us any thing yet.” “No, I haven’t. I wonder what’s the matter with me? It’s with Gould & Co. Splendid, I can tell you. Warehouse, as they call it, a hundred feet long. Oh, Anna! I wish you could see the young gentleman—he is splendid. But grandma, what is the matter with you? How white you are! How your poor hands shake! Dear me, what is the matter?” The old lady’s head had fallen forward on her bosom; the borders of her cap quivered like a white poppy in the wind. She grasped some folds of her dress with one hand, as if to steady its trembling. “Grandma, what is the matter?” The old lady lifted her wan face, and looked at the eager boy bending over her vaguely, as if she did not quite know him. “Oh! grandma, grandma! what is the matter?” “Nothing—nothing!” gasped those thin, pale lips. “Never, never mind me, children, I am not—not very well.” Anna, who had taken off her bonnet and shawl, came forward now, and, taking the old woman in her arms, laid her head on her bosom. “She is tired, Robert; your good news has taken her unawares. Grandmother is not strong.” “I—I didn’t mean to hurt her,” said Robert, penitently. “Who would have thought it?” “You have not hurt me, dear,” answered the faint old voice. “See, I am better now.” “Wouldn’t a cup of tea do her good?” whispered Joseph. “It almost always does.” “That’s a bright idea,” cried Robert. “Fill the tea-kettle, Joe, while I make a fire. Dear, me, who’s that, I wonder?” A knock at the door had startled the little group, for such sounds seldom interrupted them in their garret-room. Robert opened the door, and a young man, whom Joseph recognized at once, stepped into the room, lifting his hat as he entered.