What made her so different from his mother?
He had loved her, and he thought of her now as she used to look when in her dainty white frocks, with the strings of coral he had bought with nuts picked on the New England hills.
He used to kiss those chubby arms--kiss the rosy cheeks, and the soft brown hair.

But that hair had changed sadly since the days when its owner had first lisped his name, and called him "Ugh," for the bands and braids coiled around 'Lina's haughty head were black as midnight.

Not less changed than 'Lina's tresses was 'Lina herself, and Hugh, strong man that he was, had often felt like crying for the little baby sister, so lost and dead to him in her young womanhood.

What had changed Ad so?
There was many a tender spot in Hugh Worthington's heart, and shadow after shadow flitted across his face as he thought how cheerless was his life, and how little there was in his surroundings to make him happy.
There was nothing he would not do for people if approached in the right way, but nobody cared for him, unless it were his mother and Aunt Eunice.

They seemed to like him, and he reckoned they did, but for the rest, who was there that ever thought of doing him a kindness?
Poor Hugh! It was a dreary picture he drew as he sat alone that night, brooding over his troubles, and listening to the moan of the wintry wind--the only sound he heard, except the rattling of the shutters and the creaking of the timbers, as the old house rocked in the December gale.
Suddenly there crept into his mind Adah's words, "I shall pray for you to-night." He never prayed, and the Bible given by Golden Hair had not been opened this many a day.