the boy, then she said "Now, Master Claude Spencer, you must listen to what I have to say Your papa has placed you under my care, and I shall expect you to obey me at once; so give me that thimble this very moment."

to you.

Whilst this conversation had been passing the two little girls had been standing hand in hand, looking very frightened; but now Selina went to the side of her brother, and throwing her arms round his neck, cried, "Give it her, darling, you know dear mamma always used to tell us to obey papa; and papa said before he left us we must mind be good children, and obedient to Mrs. Wallis, so give it up; and mamma will be so pleased if she is looking out of Heaven.”

Two large tears coursed their way heavily down the boy's hot cheeks, as, walking quickly up to Mrs. Wallis; he placed the treasure in her hands. saying

"Don't lose it, oh! please don't, or I shall not have anything left Ma gave me.”

Mrs. Wallis took it, but made no promise.

Now, she asked, "Have you given me all?”
Claude assured her he had.

Mrs. Wallis next proceeded to put some of the

things in her cupboard, turning the key upon them; the peg-top she put upon the mantel-shelf, promising to give it to Claude if he proved a good boy. The rest she gave to Ann, with orders to throw them on the kitchen fire.

Poor Claude watched Ann take out the dearlyloved treasures with a wistful look; once or twice he gave a spring forward, when he saw Mrs. Wallis place anything in her hands which he thought of more value than others; for instance when his old clasp-knife was going, he begged to be allowed to keep it, and little Fanny fairly sobbed.

"Do give him his knife," she pleaded, "and he'll make such a beauty sip to put on your simney-piece."

"Chimney-piece, indeed," cried Mrs. Wallis, "beautiful it would look there, I should think, a piece of dirty wood, made up with pins, and filthy string; I should go crazy."

"Mamma often put them on her's, and said Claude could make pretty ships; and used to save him her bits of ribbon to make flags for them, and I'm sure he does make good ships too."

This was from Selina. The child had evidently tried hard to keep quiet, for the sake of an

example to her brother; but to hear that brother's talent spoken of so disparagingly, was more than she could bear, she really could not help speaking.

"Ah! well," sighed Mrs. Wallis, "you are a spoilt lot, I see; but I think I can manage you."

CHAPTER IV.

"I hear in the chamber above me

The patter of little feet,

The sound of a door that is opened,

And voices soft and sweet."-Longfellow.

"The same fond mother bent at night

O'er each fair sleeping brow:

She had each folded flower in sight,

Where are those dreamers now?"-Hemans.

IX o'clock arrived when Mrs. Wallis pro

Loud were

ceeded to put them to bed. their cries, and earnest their entreaties to be allowed to sleep together: the little things were evidently frightened, (being from home for the first time,) but Mrs. Wallis would not hear of such a thing; and in spite of all the little anxious pleadings

"Do, please, we will be so good, we will not even whisper," they were put into separate rooms. Selina and Fanny hid their faces in their pillows,

to hide their tears, and smother their sobs, when they found Claude was to be separated from them.

Mrs. Wallis had been gone down about ten minutes, when the patter of a pair of little feet might have been heard running across the bedroom floor, and when she looked in as she passed to her own room, about three hours after, there was a sight met her view, that would have melted any other to tears.

On the far side of the bed lay Selina, one little round fair arm thrown across her face, and a sweet smile upon her pouting lips. In the middle lay little Fanny, her long silken curls partly over her sister's face, and partly over Claude's, on whose bosom she was nestled. His arms were thrown around her, as if to shield her from danger; and one of her little dimpled fat arms was thrown over his neck; whilst every now and then a sob escaped her. And thus they slept.

No mother's tender good-night kiss had lingered on those cherub lips.

No father's fond "God bless my pets," had soothed those little souls to rest.

No, far from home, and every familiar face, they had cried themselves to sleep.