CHAPTER II.
A FEW minutes after Mrs.Markland left her husband's side, she stepped from the house, carrying a small basket in one hand, and leading a child, some six or seven years old, with the other.
"Are you going over to see Mrs.Elder ?" asked the child, as they moved down the smoothly-graded walk.
"Yes, dear," was answered.
"I don't like to go there," said the child.
"Why not, Aggy." The mother's voice was slightly serious.
"Every thing is so mean and poor." "Can Mrs.Elder help that, Aggy ?" "I don't know." "She's sick, my child, and not able even to sit up.

The little girl who stays with her can't do much.

I don't see how Mrs.Elder can help things looking mean and poor; do you ?" "No, ma'am," answered Aggy, a little bewildered by what her mother said.
"I think Mrs.Elder would be happier if things were more comfortable around her; don't you, Aggy ?" "Yes, mother," "Let us try, then, you and I, to make her happier." "What can I do ?" asked little Aggy, lifting a wondering look to her mother's face.
"Would you like to try, dear ?" "If I knew what to do." "There is always a way when the heart is willing.

Do you understand that, love ?" Aggy looked up again, and with an inquiring glance, to her mother.
"We will soon be at Mrs.Elder's.

Are you not sorry that she is so sick?
It is more than a week since she was able to sit up, and she has suffered a great deal of pain." "Yes, I'm very sorry." And both look and tone confirmed the truth of her words.