She was too young to go to assemblies, at which her father rejoiced, for he had little Amy with her pretty jokes, and her bird-like songs, and her playful caresses all the evening to amuse him in his loneliness; and she was not too much tired, like Sophy and Helen, to give him her sweet company at breakfast the next morning. He submitted willingly while she blinded him with her hands, and kissed his rough red face all over. She took his newspaper away after a little pretended resistance, and would not allow her brother Harry to go on with his review. "I'm the on]y lady this morning, papa, so you know you must make a great deal of me." "My darling, I think you have your own way always, whether you're the only lady or not." "Yes, papa, you're pretty good and obedient, I must say that; but I'm sorry to say Harry is very naughty, and does not do what I tell him; do you, Harry?" "I'm sure I don't know what you mean to accuse me of, Amy; I expected praise and not blame; for did not I get you that eau de Portugal from town, that you could not meet with at Hughes', you little ungrateful puss?" "Did you? Oh, sweet Harry; you're as sweet as can de Portugal yourself; you're almost as good as papa; but still you know you did go and forget to ask Bigland for that rose, that new rose they say he has got." "No, Amy, I did not forget. I asked him, and he has got the Rose, sans reproche; but do you know, little Miss Extravagance, a very small one is half a guinea?" "Oh, I don't mind. Papa will give it me, won't dear father? He knows his little daughter can't live without flowers and scents?" Mr Carson tried to refuse his darling, but she coaxed him into acquiescence, saying she must have it, it was one of her necessaries. Life was not worth having without flowers. "Then, Amy," said her brother, "try and be content with peonies and dandelions" "Oh, you wretch! I don't call them flowers. Besides, you re every bit as extravagant. Who gave half-a-crown for a bunch of lilies of the valley at Yates', a month ago, and then would not let his poor little sister have them, though she went on her knees to beg them? Answer me that, Master Hal." "Not on compulsion," replied her brother, smiling with his mouth, while his eyes had an irritated expression, and he went first red, then pale, with vexed embarrassment. "If you please, sir," said a servant, entering the room, "here's one of the mill people wanting to see you; his name is Wilson, he says." "I'll come to him directly; stay, tell him to come in here." Amy danced off into the conservatory which opened out of the room, before the gaunt, pale, unwashed, unshaven weaver was ushered in. There he, stood at the door, sleeking his hair with old country habit, and every now and then stealing a glance round at the splendour of the apartment. "Well, Wilson, and what do you want to-day, man?" "Please, sir, Davenport's ill of the fever, and I'm come to know if you've got an infirmary order for him?" "Davenport--Davenport; who is the fellow? I don't know the name?" "He's worked in your factory better nor three year, sir." "Very likely; I don't pretend to know the names of the men I employ; that I leave to the overlooker. So he's ill, eh?" "Aye, sir, he's very bad; we want to get him in at the Fever Wards." "I doubt if I've an in-patient's order to spare at present; but I'll give you an out-patient's and welcome." So saying, be rose up, unlocked a drawer, pondered a minute, and then gave Wilson an out-patient's order to be presented the following Monday. Monday! How many days there were before Monday! Meanwhile, the younger Mr Carson had ended his review, and began to listen to what was going on. He finished his breakfast, got up and pulled five shillings out of his pocket, which he gave to Wilson as he passed him, for the "poor fellow." He went past quickly, and calling for his horse, mounted gaily, and rode away. He was anxious to be in time to have a look and a smile from lovely Mary Barton, as she went to Miss Simmonds'. But to-day he was to be disappointed. Wilson left the house, not knowing whether to be pleased or grieved. It was long to Monday, but they had all spoken kindly to him, and who could tell if they might not remember this, and do something before Monday. Besides, the cook, who, when she had had time to think, after breakfast was sent in, had noticed his paleness, had had meat and bread ready to put in his hand when he came out of the parlour; and a full stomach makes every one of us more hopeful. When he reached Berry Street, he had persuaded himself he bore good news, and felt almost elated in his heart. But it fell when he opened the cellar-door, and saw Barton and the wife both bending over the sick man's couch with awe-struck, saddened look. "Come here," said Barton. "There's a change comed over him sin' yo left, is there not?" Wilson looked. The flesh was sunk, the features prominent, bony, and rigid.
