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BDDCATIOH LIBB. 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 Education 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 Louise Farrow Barr 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER 
 
" Cosy Corner Series" 
 
 HIS LITTLE MOTHER 
 
 BY 
 
 MISS MULOCK 
 
 AUTHOR OF " JOHN HALIFAX, GENTLEMAN," ETC. 
 
 Illustrated by Etheldred B. Barry 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 JOSEPH KNIGHT COMPANY 
 
 1896 
 
Copyright, 1895 
 
 BY 
 
 Joseph Knight Company 
 
 Education 
 Add to Lib, 
 
 GIFT 
 
IliVSTRATIO: 
 
 <3> 
 
 *> 
 
 His Little Mother .... Frontispiece. 
 
 Headpiece to Part I i 
 
 "The Trio settled Themselves to entire enjoy- 
 ment OF THE SIGHT" 12 
 
 " TWO RATHER FORLORN FIGURES " . . . . 23 
 
 Headpiece to Part II. 25 
 
 ** Dorcas laid it aside, and opened Cyprian's " . 37 
 
 Tailpiece to Part II. 44 
 
 Headpiece to Part III. ...... 45 
 
 " Dorcas with Her Two Children, One in each 
 
 HAND " 58 
 
 Tailpiece 65 
 
 329 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 PART I 
 TEN YEARS OLD 
 
 p- HEY sat close together — a rather 
 isolated little pair, boy and girl, 
 apparently brother and sister — at the 
 merry tea-table of a children's party. 
 
 Children's parties then were not ex- 
 actly what they are now. We used to 
 be invited at four o'clock, and we always left 
 at half past eight — on our feet, generally — for 
 our toilets were not of a kind which would 
 startle the streets of that innocent country town. 
 We had short sleeves, certainly, and compara- 
 tively low necks, but tippets and long white 
 linen gloves made all right, and our frocks 
 descended comfortably to the ankle. Besides 
 which we wore beautiful white frilly "trousers" 
 — or plain ones of the same material as the 
 dress. Hats, too, which really covered the 
 heady and were tied down, gypsy fashion, over 
 
2 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 a bush of curls — if our hair would curl ; if not, 
 it was plaited into tails — the more the better. 
 I remember on state occasions my mother used 
 to plait mine into six, three on each side, tied 
 with bright ribbons, of which I was exceedingly 
 proud. 
 
 This little girl — perhaps she had no mother 
 to be conceited about her hair, for it was only 
 divided into two tails, not very carefully plaited, 
 and tied with rather shabby brown ribbon. 
 Neither she nor the little boy was quite as well 
 dressed as the rest of the young party ; but they 
 were neat and clean, and, though not exactly 
 blooming children, were interesting, if only 
 from the way they seemed to hang together, as 
 though accustomed to depend upon themselves, 
 or rather upon one another, for everything. 
 
 At least, so it seemed to the lady who watched 
 them — one Miss Waldershare, a rich and lonely 
 woman, glad of any interest, especially when it 
 came in the shape of a child. She was only a 
 passing visitor in the town, and had come almost 
 accidentally to the party, where she had nobody 
 belonging to her. Neither had these two little 
 people, apparently. All the other young guests 
 had come with mothers, aunts, or nurses ; but 
 these, Miss Waldershare had observed, had 
 walked in, walked up-stairs to take their things 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 3 
 
 off, and walked down again, hand-in-hand, quite 
 alone. 
 
 The two little faces, unlike, and yet with a 
 certain family look which satisfied her as to 
 their relationship, touched her more than all the 
 merry faces round the table. Particularly so 
 when dangerous dainties circulated round it, and 
 the boy would look appealingly to the girl, who 
 smiled back either a "No" or a "Yes." But 
 both were given smilingly and accepted obedi- 
 ently. He was a big, handsome boy, much 
 bigger and handsomer than his sister, with a 
 soft, good-natured, rather weak expression : 
 whereas she was small, dark, thin, with sharp, 
 firm features ; an " old " face rather, which 
 might almost have been called plain but for the 
 look of love in her eyes, and the sweet decision 
 of her mouth. All the better, since the boy, 
 pretty as he was, seemed of an undecided na- 
 ture ; as if it were almost a relief to have some- 
 body to settle everything for him. 
 
 So at least thought Miss Waldershare, amused 
 to notice how character shows itself even at ten 
 years old. 
 
 "You are about ten, I suppose, my dear," 
 said she to the little girl, "and a sensible girl 
 you are, too, not to let your brother eat too 
 much plum-cake. And he is a good boy to mind 
 
4 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 what you say," added she, patting the handsome 
 head, which had dropped disconsolately when, 
 for the third time, the tempting dish was al- 
 lowed to pass. 
 
 "We are both ten, ma'am" (children were 
 always taught to say "ma'am" and "sir" in 
 those days), " we are twins, though I am so 
 little, and he is so big and tall. I am obliged to 
 be very careful what he eats. He is not as 
 strong as he looks, and he does not like being 
 ill or taking physic." 
 
 " Nobody does, I think. But he is a lucky 
 boy to have such a wise little sister." 
 
 " I am his little mother," answered the child, 
 in a grave, old-fashioned way. " Mamma told 
 me I was to be his little mother till she came 
 back again." 
 
 " Is she away from home, then ? " 
 
 " A long way from home — in India. She 
 has been gone two years and a month. It will 
 be four years and eleven months before she and 
 papa are back again." 
 
 " Four years, ten months, and two weeks — 
 we counted yesterday, Dor," corrected the little 
 boy — to which the sister assented, looking 
 quite pleased, and saying that " he was always 
 so good at arithmetic." 
 
 " And what was it he called you ? " asked Miss 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 5 
 
 Waldershare, more and more interested, yet not 
 liking to seem too curious, as she thought the 
 ordinary reticence of politeness ought to be ob- 
 served with children as much as with grown-up 
 folks. 
 
 The little girl laughed. " Oh, Dor — or Dor- 
 mouse — or Dor-beetle — I have lots of names. 
 But my right name is Dorcas. Rather ugly, is 
 it not ? But then his is a very pretty one — 
 Cyprian. Mamma said he was always to be 
 called Cyprian in full. She is very fond of him. 
 She thinks there never was such a boy." This 
 was said in a confidential whisper, as the child's 
 heart warmed instinctively to the motherly, 
 childless heart of her questioner. 
 
 Somebody now called upon Miss Waldershare 
 to start a game, and she was separated from her 
 two small friends, and swamped in the general 
 vortex for an hour or two ; at the end of which 
 time, however, she had contrived to find out all 
 that was to be found out concerning Dorcas and 
 Cyprian. 
 
 Their parents, though remotely connected 
 with the little town, where everybody knew 
 everybody, had never been seen there, having 
 gone to Calcutta, or Benares, or Bombay — no- 
 body was quite sure where — leaving behind 
 these children with three old ladies, distant re- 
 
6 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 lations, who resided here. The giver of the 
 party scarcely knew the names of her small 
 guests — they were merely "the next-door chil- 
 dren," invited "for kindness." 
 
 And, though both their hostess and every- 
 body else was really kind to them — or would 
 have been, had they mixed themselves up easily 
 with the rest — still, to the very end of the 
 evening, Miss Waldershare noticed a certain 
 forlornness in the little pair, who went about to- 
 gether, or sat close together, hand-in-hand, as if 
 unused to general society, and belonging spe- 
 cially to one another, and not to anybody else ; 
 so much so that even she, generally so success- 
 ful in shaking up a party together, found them 
 a difficult element to deal with. 
 
 First, the boy was so exceedingly shy that 
 there was no doing anything with him. He 
 would not, or could not, play at any game — 
 not even simple "hunt the slipper," or merry 
 "kiss-in-the-ring." He refused absolutely to 
 give or to "cry" a forfeit ; and when, tempted 
 by the fun and laughing, he was at last lured 
 into blind-man's-buff, he somehow got into 
 everybody's way, and being accidentally knocked 
 down, burst into such a piteous howl that he 
 was obliged to be carried off at once up-stairs* 
 
 There, ever so long after, Miss Waldershare 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER. J 
 
 found him, with his faithful little sister sitting 
 patiently beside him, in the deserted bedroom. 
 
 " Is he hurt ? " the lady asked, anxiously. 
 
 "Oh no ; only he had rather stay here." 
 
 " But why should you stay, my little girl ? 
 You like fun ; I saw you playing very merrily. 
 Go back to the rest." 
 
 "Without Cyprian ? " said Dorcas, with wide- 
 open eyes ; as if such an idea produced in her 
 mind simple astonishment. " Oh dear, no ! He 
 does not like being alone. Mamma told me 
 never to leave Cyprian." 
 
 "That settles the point," said Miss Walder- 
 share, smiling ; and went down-stairs again. 
 But several times she returned, and tried to 
 coax the little fellow back to the gay party be- 
 low. However, he was either too shy, or too 
 sulky, or too much accustomed to have every- 
 thing his own way, with his " little mother " for 
 his devoted slave; for though once or twice he 
 yielded to persuasion so far as to go to the top 
 of the stairs — being evidently of a soft and 
 yielding disposition — still he always came back 
 again, and sheltered himself behind his sister, 
 as if, though so much less than himself, she was 
 his naturaj refuge. 
 
 For Dorcas, she did her utmost, poor little 
 woman, to get him into a better mind; and 
 
8 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 when all failed — and the boy's gentle obstinacy 
 and hesitating sweetness were most difficult to 
 make anything out of — she soothed him, she 
 comforted him, she apologized for him. Finally, 
 when all the kindly inquirers left him and her 
 together, she sat beside the little fellow in the 
 somewhat dreary bedroom, listening to the 
 noisy rout down-stairs, for very nearly two 
 hours. 
 
 " Would you like to go and have a dance ? 
 They are dancing, you hear ? " 
 
 Dorcas looked up at Miss Waldershare with a 
 world of grateful pleasure in her eyes. She was 
 not pretty ; but she had that sort of airy, well- 
 set figure which seems made for dancing. Al- 
 ready her little feet were beating time to the 
 music. 
 
 "Do go, child," said the kind lady. "Run 
 away ; I will stay with your brother." 
 
 Poor little " Dor " was almost off — the music 
 was playing such a lovely tune, nearly as entic- 
 ing as that of the Pied Piper of Hamelin — 
 when she felt her dress caught by Cyprian's im- 
 ploring hand. 
 
 She sat down again. "He doesn't dance — 
 he doesn't like it. Thank you — no. Perhaps 
 I had better stay with Cyprian. It will soon be 
 time for going home. Mamma said we were 
 
HTS LITTLE MOTHER. 9 
 
 never to be out after dark, on account of 
 Cyprian. He catches cold so soon." 
 
 " But this is a warm summer night," began 
 Miss Waldershare, feeling inclined to argue the 
 point ; and doubtful of the wisdom of allowing 
 one child to sacrifice everything to another 
 child. Still, there was something so pathetic in 
 this literal obedience to the wishes of the far- 
 away mother — this entire devotion to a rather 
 trying little brother — that the kind stranger 
 lady, unto whom it had pleased Heaven to give 
 neither the sweetness nor the bitterness of 
 family duties, held her tongue and remonstrated 
 no more. 
 
 When next time she went after them — for 
 amid all the fun and frolic down-stairs she was 
 haunted by a vision of the little forlorn twins 
 sitting in the deserted bedroom all alone — she 
 found her birds were flown. 
 
 Dorcas, she learned, had quietly crept away 
 with her little brother, not waiting for supper; 
 though she had been seen standing for several 
 minutes at the hall door till she could say good- 
 by " politely" to the hostess. 
 
 "Mamma said we were never to go away from 
 any visit without thanking the lady of the house 
 for our pleasant evening," she had explained to 
 somebody; and been laughed at a good deal 
 for her " old-fashioned " ways. 
 
IO HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 No doubt, the family thought, she learned 
 them from those three prim elderly ladies with 
 whom she must lead such a dull life, " to say 
 nothing of that fanciful, disagreeable little 
 brother, to whom she gives up everything, ap- 
 parently never thinking of herself at all. Poor 
 little soul ! 
 
 But Miss Waldershare, who had seen many a 
 child who thought of itself a great deal, who 
 was everybody's pet, from whom nobody ever 
 expected anything — and certainly never got it 
 — turn out to be not only the most unpleasant 
 but most unhappy of young people, did not al- 
 together pity " Dor." The child had at least — 
 so one of the other children said — " somebody 
 to make a fuss over." 
 
 But having a firm belief in compensation — 
 also some sadly humble belief in herself as an 
 instrument of the same — for there are those to 
 whom Heaven seems to deny all personal joys, 
 in order that they should be better able to make 
 other people happy — Miss Waldershare set her 
 benevolent wits to work to invent some small 
 pleasure for these two children, whose pleasures 
 were so few. 
 
 Fate, kindly seized upon, often turns kind. 
 The very next day every vacant wall in the town 
 broke out into an eruption of huge handbills, 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER. II 
 
 announcing that Signor Bianchini, the cele- 
 brated pyrotechnist, would on a certain evening 
 have a grand display in the High Street ; and 
 would end by walking — under patronage of the 
 Worshipful the Mayor — from one of the win- 
 dows in the Town-hall to a window opposite, on 
 the tight-rope, amid a shower of rockets and 
 Roman candles. 
 
 Now, the noble art of pyrotechny was then in 
 its infancy, and Blondin the Great had neither 
 been born nor thought of. Consequently, the 
 little town was much excited ; and on the rumor 
 being spread that the hero of the day was no 
 other than a certain Jem White — who had once 
 fled the town in disgrace for throwing crackers 
 and squibs on Gunpowder Plot day, to return in 
 honor and glory as the celebrated Signor Bian- 
 chini — a touch of romance added to the inter- 
 est. All the towns-people, high and low — the 
 low in the street, and the high upon every 
 available shop-front and first-floor window — as- 
 sembled to witness the show. 
 
 Miss Waldershare, putting off her departure 
 for a day, engaged a tiny room with a balconied 
 window, over a bookseller's shop ; and thither, 
 after much perturbation and great hesitation on 
 the part of the three old ladies, she succeeded 
 in carrying off her little friends, Dorcas and 
 
12 
 
 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 Cyprian Hall. There, by seven o'clock on a 
 July night, she established herself, with the 
 twins one on each side of her, which arrange- 
 ment, however, was soon modified. 
 
 " May he come beside me, ma'am ? If there 
 should be a — a noise — fireworks do make a 
 
 noise some- 
 times, I think ? 
 — he will like to 
 be closer beside 
 me. He is rather 
 timid, you see," 
 added, with a 
 half -apologetic 
 air, the "little 
 mother." 
 
 She was not 
 timid — not even 
 when the balcony gave a sudden crack, and 
 with involuntary instinct she used all her small 
 strength to push Cyprian back upon the safe 
 window-ledge, remaining outside herself. But 
 it was a false alarm, though it frightened Miss 
 Waldershare a little, and Cyprian very much — 
 until there was proved to be no danger, and the 
 trio settled themselves to entire enjoyment of 
 the sight. 
 
 What a sight it was ! One of the many chil- 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 1 3 
 
 dren who saw it remembers it still : even after 
 five-and-forty years ! the proud delight of sitting 
 up till eleven at night, and being initiated into 
 the mysteries of the nocturnal world — the 
 streets, lit with oil-lamps (gas being still un- 
 known there), the houses, dim and tall, and the 
 quiet starry sky overhead, such a contrast to 
 the noisy crowd below. Then that black plat- 
 form, whence all the wonderful show was to 
 come - — what dozens of young eyes gazed on it 
 in eager suspense ! till, punctual to the ap- 
 pointed minute, there shot forth, with a whiz, 
 a whir, and a glare, the first rocket. Up it 
 went — making everybody jump, and Cyprian 
 utter an audible cry — up like a live creature, 
 flying, or rather shooting, right into the sky, no 
 one could exactly see where, till it fell down, in 
 a shower of fiery rain, on the very heads of the 
 crowd, who screamed and laughed, and ran 
 hither and thither ; trying, some to avoid, some 
 to snatch at the blazing sparks. 
 
 Another, and another, and another — each ris- 
 ing higher and falling steadier than the last ; 
 then a grand illumination of " Roman candles," 
 showing ail the faces of the people below, and 
 lighting up the architecture of the old Town- 
 hall, which the townsfolk were so proud of. 
 Finally, a most wonderful set piece — a wheel of 
 
14 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 light, which kept turning and turning, every mo- 
 ment more rapidly, throwing out a shower of 
 sparks all round. 
 
 " The most beautiful thing we ever saw in all 
 our life — isn't it, Cyprian ?" cried Dor. "What 
 can it be ? " 
 
 " A Catherine-wheel," said Miss Waldershare, 
 smiling at the " we " and the "our life " in the 
 singular number — so natural to the twins. 
 
 "A Catherine-wheel?" repeated the sister, 
 meditatively. " I wonder has that anything to 
 do with St. Catherine? Mamma had a picture 
 of her leaning against a wheel. She was so 
 pretty — but with a sweet, sad kind of face, 
 something like mamma's." 
 
 " You have a pretty mamma, then ? " said 
 Miss Waldershare, ignoring the other adjective. 
 " And you have heard of St. Catherine — and 
 very likely about Raffaelle, who painted her ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes," brightening up extremely. " I 
 like to read all I can about painters, for I am so 
 fond of drawing. I often try to draw. Mamma 
 says I shall learn properly some day, and then I 
 can teach Cyprian." 
 
 " Does Cyprian like reading?" 
 
 "N — no," with a slight hesitation. "Indeed 
 he has not time for reading. He learns Latin, 
 you know. So I read for both of us, and then 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 1 5 
 
 I can tell him anything interesting. It saves 
 him so much trouble. " 
 
 " I don't like trouble, and I can't imagine how 
 anybody could like reading," said Cyprian, with 
 his most attractive smile. 
 
 " But he likes writing, and he writes so well 
 — small hand — and a great deal better than I," 
 eagerly said the little sister. " And he can read 
 written-hand beautifully — makes out every word 
 in mamma's letters. If you knew how delight- 
 ful are mamma's letters — as interesting as a 
 story-book. We get one every mail, and we 
 look for it days before it comes. It has been 
 coming for a week now. Perhaps we shall find 
 it when we get home to-night." 
 
 " I hope so," said the lady, with a slight 
 tremble in her voice. Never, either as child or 
 woman, had Miss Waldershare got any mother's 
 letters. 
 
 " If it does come, and if she cared to call to- 
 morrow, perhaps we might let her see it," whis- 
 pered Cyprian to his sister, who slightly hesi- 
 tated, as if that were a privilege too great for 
 any mortal creature. 
 
 " To-morrow, my dears, I shall be miles and 
 miles away. I shall not see you for a very long 
 time, I fear." 
 
 "What a pity ! Because I shall tell mamma 
 
l6 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 all about you — we always tell her everything — 
 and if she knew how kind you have been to us 
 both, she would let me show you her letters. 
 But I should like to ask her first ; and it will be 
 six months before we get the answer." 
 
 " Of course it will," said Miss Waldershare, 
 thinking of the great gulf of time and space 
 between mother and children — of the letters 
 received ignorantly, months after date, on both 
 sides — and of how sad it was, that with such 
 tender love between children and parents, the 
 one should grow up, and the other should grow 
 old in such a long separation that when they did 
 meet again it would be almost as strangers. 
 
 " But come, my dears, the fireworks are be- 
 ginning again. And there is Signor Bianchini 
 on the tight-rope. See how beautifully he bal- 
 ances himself with that long pole. Would you 
 like to be a tight-rope dancer, Cyprian ? " 
 
 u He is to be a gentleman, and go to college, 
 and then go out to India to papa," said Dorcas, 
 with a little touch of pride. And when the 
 boy, boy-like, clapped his hands with delight, 
 watching the ci-devant Jem White make his 
 perilous journey over the upturned heads of the 
 crowd, the more sensitive girl shuddered, and 
 turned pale. 
 
 " Would you like to go in, and not look any 
 more ? " said Miss Waldershare, kindly. 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER. \J 
 
 " No, thank you; something might happen — 
 Cyprian might, overbalance himself. No, I would 
 rather stay by Cyprian." 
 
 And though still white and trembling, she did 
 stay till the very last. But, besides the buns 
 and oranges, a glass of wine had to be admin- 
 istered to the child before she was able to walk 
 home. She seemed but a fragile little thing, 
 despite her spirit and — only the word was not 
 known in those days — her * pluck." 
 
 The last of the fireworks shot up — a sheaf 
 of flame, hissing and crackling — above the 
 Town-hall and the old church-tower, right into 
 the silent stars ; there was a shout of ecstatic 
 cheering from the crowd, and a final "sending 
 round the hat," which ceremony had been gone 
 through several times already, from window to 
 window, Dorcas apologizing sadly that she had 
 no penny to drop into it — "But mamma told 
 us that papa was not rich, and that we were not to 
 spend more pennies than we could help." And 
 then the signor bowed his thanks — in a the- 
 atrical attitude, beside the very biggest of 
 Catherine-wheels — and the crowd began to 
 separate. The night's delight was ended. 
 
 Miss Waldershare walked through the fast- 
 thinning street with her two proteges, one in 
 each hand. Cyprian, no longer shy, was chat- 
 
1 8 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 tering like a magpie, but Dorcas, who had 
 hitherto done the talking, now began to be si- 
 lent, evidently very tired. Her friend would 
 have liked to take her up and carry her; she 
 was strong enough and the child small enough j 
 but Dorcas was so astonished at the idea that 
 she gave it up, and merely helped the poor lit- 
 tle girl as well as she could till they reached the 
 Terrace. 
 
 " I will just wait and see if you have got your 
 letter, and then I will bid you good-by. I am 
 going away to-morrow morning," said Miss 
 Waldershare, with a slight regret at her heart. 
 Her life was almost as solitary as that of these 
 little people. 
 
 " Is that the children ? Bring them in at once 
 to me," said a sharp voice behind the sleepy 
 maid-servant who opened the door. 
 
 " Oh, Miss Moffatt, is that you ? Have you 
 got mamma's letters ? " 
 
 " There are letters." 
 
 "I am so glad!" said Miss Waldershare. 
 She kissed the two children, and walked quickly 
 away. 
 
 By one of those accidental delays which visit 
 us all, she, however, did not leave next morn- 
 ing. Business — other people's business, of 
 course — rose up, which detained her nearly a 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER. I9 
 
 week ; and being rather troublesome business, 
 her mind was so full of it that she hardly gave 
 a thought to the twins, Dorcas and Cyprian, 
 till, coming home from church, she passed the 
 end of the Terrace, and saw two little figures 
 walking down it, slowly and quietly, hand-in- 
 hand, two little black figures, so far as her 
 short sight enabled her to judge, which made 
 her at first think it could not possibly be they. 
 Nevertheless, she felt a strong inclination to 
 call and say good-by over again — for she was 
 going abroad, on a mission of mercy, with a sick 
 friend, and it might be months, nay years, before 
 she was in England again. 
 
 So she sent up her card, asking to see " little 
 Miss HaU" 
 
 The servant, looking rather surprised, showed 
 her into an empty parlor, where she waited sev- 
 eral minutes, and then the two poor little chil- 
 dren, still hand-in-hand, walked in. 
 
 Truly, "poor" children, having sustained the 
 utmost loss a child can know. 
 
 They were dressed in black from head to 
 foot — not even a v/hite collar — and their faces 
 were very grave, Cyprian's being rosy still, but 
 out of Dorcas's every ray of color had departed. 
 Her eyes looked as if she had been crying all 
 day long, and the voice she spoke in, though 
 quiet, was forced and strange. 
 
20 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 " How do you do, ma'am ? It is kind of you to 
 come and see us." 
 
 " My poor little girl, what has happened ? " 
 
 " Mamma is dead ! " cried Cyprian, with a 
 burst of tears. 
 
 " Yes, our mamma is dead," said Dorcas, but 
 without crying. She seemed to have wept all 
 her tears away. 
 
 " But — the letter ? " 
 
 " It was from papa. He said mamma had been 
 dead a week. That is two months ago. So it 
 is two months and a week since we had any 
 mamma. I can't understand it at all," added 
 the boy, shaking his head in a forlorn sort of way. 
 
 His sister put her arm round him, and drew 
 him to her, at which he began sobbing afresh. 
 In truth, they all wept together ; Miss Walder- 
 share never thinking till afterward how strange 
 it was that she, who had had no tears for many 
 a year, should shed them now, over a woman 
 whom she had never seen and scarcely heard of. 
 
 She wondered what kind of person the father 
 was, and even went so far as to ask if she might 
 see his letter. 
 
 " Oh yes " (no hesitation now). " But I re- 
 member Miss Moffatt has it. She said she 
 should keep it, lest papa might forget his prom- 
 ise, and take us away from here." 
 
 " Would you wish to go ? " 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 21 
 
 "Oh no. It doesn't matter. The Miss Mof- 
 fatts are very kind to us. Everything goes on 
 as usual, except for mamma's letters. She has 
 been a year away, and this is the first time the 
 mail ever came in without bringing us one of 
 mamma's letters." 
 
 The child spoke in a dull, sad, almost com- 
 plaining tone ; evidently even she did not yet 
 realize — how difficult it is for any of us to real- 
 ize ! — that sudden pause of death-silence. 
 
 "Did your mamma ever say — had you any 
 idea — ? " began Miss Waldershare, and stopped. 
 What use was it to question ? The plain, hard 
 fact was there — the children were motherless. 
 
 " And you are going abroad, too ? " said Dor- 
 cas, when she had sat a good while, holding the 
 kind hand whose firm clasp was the only way in 
 which Miss Waldershare could express sym- 
 pathy. " We shall never see you again. It 
 will be just like mamma's going — only you have 
 no little children to leave behind." 
 
 " No, nobody." 
 
 " Mamma would not have left us if she could 
 have helped it — she told me so; but she had 
 to go with papa. She said so once — I was not 
 to tell Cyprian, and I almost forgot it myself 
 till now — it -seemed so impossible ; but she 
 said — " Dorcas hesitated. 
 
 " Said what, my dear ? " 
 
22 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 " That even if she died we were not to mind, 
 as she would not be much farther away from us 
 than when she was in India, perhaps not so far. 
 What did she mean ? " 
 
 Miss Waldershare tried to explain ; tried to 
 put into the child's heart, without giving any 
 impression of fear or pain, that heavenly conso- 
 lation of the continual nearness of the dead, of 
 the narrow barrier that for all pure and loving 
 souls exists between the life here and the life 
 everlasting. 
 
 " I understand," Dorcas said, at last. "And 
 that is why we were to remember what she used 
 to say to us, and do what she wished us to do, 
 just as much as if she were here beside us. It 
 will be much the same now. Do you hear what 
 the lady says ? Do you understand her, Cy- 
 prian ? " 
 
 Poor Cyprian ! He had ceased crying now, 
 and was squatting on the hearth-rug, playing 
 with two kittens, quite merry and content. 
 None the less, possibly all the more, did Miss 
 Waldershare say, " Poor Cyprian ! " 
 
 Her time was limited, and she rose to go. 
 
 " But I shall not forget you, dear. I shall 
 write to you now and then." 
 
 " Oh, how nice ! We never get letters from 
 anybody, except mamma." Here came a sudden 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 23 
 
 shudder of recollection and a wild look, almost 
 of despair. " I forgot. We shall never have 
 any more letters from mamma. What shall we 
 do ? Oh, Cyprian, Cyprian ! " 
 
 That cry, so shrill, so full of intolerable agony, 
 made the little boy spring to his feet. 
 
 " Dor — Dor, what is the matter ? Please be 
 quiet. You frighten me so — you make me so 
 miserable." 
 
 Then the sister, with a violent effort, checked 
 what was growing into an almost hysterical 
 scream. She put her arms 
 round Cyprian, and hid her 
 face on his shoulder till the 
 sobs ceased, and she lifted 
 up her face, deadly white, in- 
 deed, but quite composed. 
 
 "Yes, he is right; I must 
 be quiet. He has nobody to 
 take care of him but me now. 
 
 Thank 
 
 you, 
 
 Miss Walder- 
 
 share, and we shall be de- 
 lighted to get your letters. 
 And Cyprian shall write — he writes so very 
 well, you know," with a faint smile, as she put 
 up her lips for a farewell kiss. 
 
 It had not quite vanished, that piteous smile, 
 even when Miss Waldershare caught her last 
 
24 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 glimpse of the twins, standing watching her 
 down the Terrace, with their faces pressed 
 against the window-pane. Two rather for- 
 lorn figures, with their mourning clothes, and 
 grave, sad looks ; but they were two — and they 
 stood close together, hand-in-hand, as usual. 
 Also, Cyprian had his head safely nestled into 
 the shoulder of his "little mother." 
 
 The dead mother — could she have beheld 
 them — might have felt that life was not alto- 
 gether hopeless to her children. 
 
^^^s^w 
 
 PdJrt n 
 TVEMTYYEAR5 0LD 
 
 MISS WALDERSHARE did not return 
 to England for ten years. 
 Part of that time she spent with her friend, 
 very peacefully, even happily ; and when the 
 invalid needed her no more there were many 
 others who did need her. That sweet, sunny 
 nook of southern France was always full of sick 
 
26 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 and sorrowful folk, come to die, or to watch 
 their beloved die, beside the blue Mediterra- 
 nean. Consequently, this rich and kind-hearted 
 English lady, who had no home ties, never 
 wanted — who ever does want? — an object 
 whereon to expend her time, her money, and 
 her sympathies. And this was well. Sad she 
 might sometimes be ; but she was never either 
 idle or lonely ; as in truth no woman ever is, 
 unless she wishes to be the one, and deserves, 
 by her unlovableness, to be the other. 
 
 Miss Waldershare thus lingered on, year after 
 year, in the place whither she had accidentally 
 drifted, until it almost became a second home. 
 She might never have come home at all — that 
 is, to England — had not business called her to 
 the little town where she had happened to be 
 born, but where, nevertheless, she had not a sin- 
 gle living tie. And in ten years even her few 
 acquaintances there had so entirely disappeared 
 that there was not a house she cared to go to. 
 She put up at the inn. And in spite of what the 
 cynic writes about the man who, going through 
 life, finds "his warmest welcome at an inn," 
 this well-beloved maiden lady was so accustomed 
 to find every door open to her and every face 
 a friendly face, that the inn appeared just a lit- 
 tle solitary, even dull. 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 2? 
 
 Having transacted her business, she wandered 
 about, noticing how many new houses had 
 sprung up on the skirts of the old town ; but 
 the place itself remained unchanged. There 
 were the same names over the shops in the 
 High Street ; the usual market went on just be- 
 low the Town-hall, from the windows of which 
 Signor Bianchini had taken his memorable tight- 
 rope promenade, watched by herself and the lit- 
 tle twins, Dorcas and Cyprian Hall, on the night 
 of the fireworks. The fatal night — how long 
 they must have remembered it ! — when, on com- 
 ing home, they got the news of their mother's 
 death. 
 
 "Poor little souls!" she thought, recalling 
 that time. Familiar as she was with sorrow, 
 the expression of the children's faces, as she last 
 saw them looking out of the parlor window that 
 Sunday afternoon, had never gone out of her 
 mind. " But they cannot be children now. 
 They must nearly be grown up by this time. ] 
 wonder what has become of them." 
 
 For though she had faithfully written, and re- 
 ceived, at long intervals, several letters in return, 
 not from Cyprian — "he had so little time," his 
 sister said — but from Dorcas, still ten years is 
 a long period to keep up any correspondence, es- 
 pecially a foreign one, and with such very small 
 
28 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 correspondents. Miss Waldershare was scarcely 
 surprised when it gradually ceased. Two years 
 at least had passed since she had had any tid- 
 ings of the young Halls. 
 
 She was a shy and sensitive person, curiously so 
 for a middle-aged woman of good position, whom 
 nobody would have expected to have any doubt 
 of herself at all. But she had — though circum- 
 stances rather than natural temperament had 
 caused this. She never liked to intrude her- 
 self upon anybody, especially the young, and 
 was only too ready to accept the fact that people 
 had forgotten her. Therefore, even when she 
 passed the end of the Terrace where the twins 
 used to live, she hesitated, and was some min- 
 utes in making up her mind to knock at Miss 
 Moffatt's door. 
 
 There it was, the brass plate with " The 
 Misses Moffatt " — who had begun by keeping a 
 school — staring her in the face. She lingered, 
 looked round, might even have gone back again, 
 but that a lady and gentleman crossed the road 
 to her. He tall, fair, handsome ; the girl hang- 
 ing on his arm (people usually walked arm-in- 
 arm in those days) small, dark, and decidedly 
 plain. Miss Waldershare might have recog- 
 nized them had she not forgotten the lapse of 
 time. But they knew her at once, and called 
 her by name. 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 29 
 
 "We had no idea you were in England. 
 When did you come ? Why did you not let us 
 know?" said the young man, impulsively; and, 
 in spite of the incipient beard, she recalled at 
 once the pretty boy-face of Cyprian Hall. His 
 sister — yes, of course, it was his sister — his 
 "little mother" that used to be. She looked 
 like it still — being both graver and older in ap- 
 pearance than her twin. 
 
 "Then you have not quite forgotten me?" 
 said the lady, pleased, as most middle aged la- 
 dies are, at being recognized after so long a 
 time. 
 
 " Oh ! Dor knew you at once. Dor never 
 forgets anybody." 
 
 And though Dor scarcely said a word, leav- 
 ing all the talk to her brother, who seemed to 
 have a great gift that way, the pleasure in her 
 eyes, and the warm grasp of her hand, proved to 
 Miss Waldershare the truth of that character. 
 Yes, Dorcas Hall looked like a person " who 
 never forgot anybody." 
 
 "You will come in, of course? It is just 
 tea-time ; and Miss Moffatt will be glad to see 
 you, or any friend of ours. There is only one 
 Miss Moffatt now. The other two are dead ; 
 poor old dears ! so Dor and I have almost the 
 house to ourselves — except for Mr. Moffatt, a 
 
30 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 nephew of theirs ; but he is a great scholar, and 
 as quiet as a tame cat. Bless me ! I hope he 
 didn't hear me. There he is." 
 
 And Cyprian nodded to a half bald head, 
 with bright eyes, which eyes had evidently been 
 watching them from the window. 
 
 " Very quiet, but a good fellow, for all that," 
 continued the youth, with a slightly patronizing 
 air. " He and I shall be off to Oxford in two 
 months more, and then Dor will have to make 
 the best of it alone." 
 
 Dor smiled, as if quite accustomed to " make 
 the best of it," and they entered the house to- 
 gether. 
 
 When she took Miss Waldershare up-stairs to 
 arrange her dress a little — for the "old maid " 
 was just a shade " particular" as to her appear- 
 ance — Dorcas explained, with a look of proud 
 pleasure, that her brother was just going up for 
 his matriculation examination. 
 
 " Papa was a long time in consenting ; he 
 was never at college himself, and does not see 
 why a young man should go at all, especially 
 one who might be a Calcutta merchant. But 
 Cyprian does not want to be a merchant, and 
 does not care to go out to Calcutta." 
 
 " No, indeed," cried Cyprian, meeting them 
 on the staircase and overhearing; "papa has 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 3 1 
 
 married again, and there is a horrid lot of chil- 
 dren. I had much rather stop at home with 
 Dor. She makes me work — that is, if anybody 
 could do it. But I'm an idle fellow — I shall 
 never do much, anyhow; shall I, Dor? " said he, 
 with that charming frankness and engaging con- 
 trition which, in some people, seems equivalent 
 to doing what they ought to do. They feel as 
 if confessing a fault were almost as good as 
 amending it. 
 
 " You will do more by and by," said the sis- 
 ter, with a sad expression flitting through her 
 smile. " Cyprian has had a great deal to con- 
 tend against, Miss Waldershare. Papa could 
 not afford to send him to a public school, so he 
 was obliged to get educated here ; and when at 
 last he went to a clergyman to study — he — he 
 came back again." 
 
 "Was sent back," laughed the young fellow, 
 with charming candor, which, however, sent the 
 hot blood into his sister's face. "But I am 
 sure if I told the whole story to Miss Walder- 
 share she would agree with me that it was a 
 confounded shame." 
 
 "Tea is waiting," said Dorcas, hastily, and 
 then introduced the bald-headed man — not such 
 a very old man either — as "Mr. Moffatt, from 
 Oxford, who has been so very kind to Cyprian." 
 
32 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 " Kindness itself ! " added Cyprian. " I am 
 sure, if I pass, it is his coaching I have to thank 
 for it" 
 
 "You must pass," said Mr. MofTatt ; and " He 
 will pass," said Dorcas. 
 
 " Oh, don't lecture ! I hate lecturing. But 
 I mean to be such a good boy — some day." 
 
 That day, however, had been evidently long 
 of coming. Not that he was in the least a 
 "naughty" boy. On the contrary, Miss Wal- 
 dershare liked him extremely, and could quite 
 understand how everybody liked him too. He 
 had that invincible attractiveness, born of a 
 pleasant inward conviction that he did attract, 
 which makes some people so charming. They 
 throw themselves on you with the simplicity of 
 a child to whom no one has ever said a hard 
 word ; they are quite sure of your regard — so 
 sure that you have not the heart to refuse it. 
 Before she had been an hour in the room with 
 him, Miss Waldershare felt a weak consciousness 
 that, were he to ask her, she would do almost 
 anything for young Cyprian Hall. 
 
 And his "little mother." 
 
 " Yes, I am still his 'little mother,' " Dorcas 
 answered, smiling, to some question which Miss 
 Waldershare put on bidding good-by — not a 
 farewell at all, for she had been already per- 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 33 
 
 suaded by Cyprian to remain in the town a few 
 clays longer ("just to comfort poor Dor after I 
 am gone," said he, with a pleasing conviction 
 that she would want comfort, and that nobody 
 could make up to her for the loss of himself — 
 which, perhaps, was not untrue). " He needed 
 a* little mother' more than most boys; and, 
 besides, mamma told me to take care of him." 
 
 "Mamma said that" — "Mamma wished 
 that," seemed, even after all these years, to be 
 the invisible law of right to the orphans, evi- 
 dently as completely orphans as if they had 
 been left without either father or mother. And 
 Dorcas, with her silentness and somewhat care- 
 worn face, much older looking than that of her 
 twin, seemed to have taken upon herself all the 
 duties and anxieties of a mother. 
 
 Altogether, Miss Waldershare quitted the lit- 
 tle household — where Miss Moffatt, its nominal 
 head, had never once appeared (she was an in- 
 valid, and Miss Hall managed everything) — with 
 a somewhat heavy heart. The brightest bit, 
 however — she being of a rather " sentimental" 
 turn — was in the fancy she took for Mr. Mof- 
 fatt's honest countenance, and the pleasure she 
 had in watching how he seemed to do every- 
 thing he could think of for quaint, plain, gentle 
 Dorcas Hall. 
 
34 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 She saw a good deal of both him and the 
 twins during the next two days, and after Cy- 
 prian had started for Oxford in the highest spir- 
 its, and without a doubt concerning his "exam.," 
 she and his sister had much talk together. But 
 Dorcas was not very confidential, not even on 
 the subject of Cyprian. In all she said there 
 seemed to be some arrih'e pensee, a sense of 
 past disappointment and future doubt, almost 
 amounting to fear, which, putting together frag- 
 ments which she rather betrayed than told, gave 
 a still deeper uneasiness to the older and more 
 experienced woman. 
 
 Cyprian did not much care for reading; found 
 study difficult ; his sister had taught herself 
 Latin, a bit of Greek, and even something of 
 mathematics, in order to teach him. He had 
 never had any systematic education of any kind 
 — well, that was not his fault, but Miss Walder- 
 share knew that real students, true workers, who 
 mean to make their way in the world, whether 
 boy or girl, will, when they get into their teens, 
 begin to educate themselves. And self-educa- 
 tion is perhaps the soundest of all. 
 
 But Cyprian was twenty, and had not begun 
 earnestly to study yet. If he passed even the 
 preliminary examination for Oxford, it would 
 be, Dorcas was forced to own, chiefly owing to 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 35 
 
 the excellent and gratuitous "coaching" given 
 him for the last eight weeks by Mr. Moffatt. 
 
 " But oh ! Miss Waldershare, you see how 
 much my poor boy has had to fight against ! " 
 pleaded the sister, in fond deprecation. "Even 
 his good looks and his winning ways have been 
 dangerous to him, because everybody is always 
 admiring him and inviting him out. Yet he is 
 as steady as a rock- — -never gets into any ill- 
 ways, late hours, or the like, and he is always 
 so easily led, and so good and affectionate. To 
 part from him will be dreadful, but I shall be 
 content if I know he is all right, and if I can 
 sometimes go and see him — Oxford men like to 
 have their sisters visiting them, Mr. Moffatt 
 said; only it must be pretty sisters — not such 
 as me." 
 
 Miss Waldershare asked, gravely, " if it were 
 Mr. Moffatt who said that? " because she her- 
 self thought the little dark-eyed face and dainty 
 figure made up a sister quite well-looking 
 enough for any college "man." 
 
 " Well, then," said Dorcas, laughing, " I 
 really will go up next Commemoration. It will 
 be so grand to take a walk with Cyprian in his 
 cap and gown ! How handsome he will look — 
 how proud mamma would have been ! Mamma 
 always said Cyprian must go to Oxford." 
 
36 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 So talked they — the elder and the younger 
 woman — in the dim evening light ; waiting for 
 the letter — there were no telegraphs then — 
 which was to bring the important news. 
 
 At last it came: two letters arrived — the sec- 
 ond being from Mr. Moffatt. Dorcas laid it 
 aside, and opened Cyprian's. 
 
 Only one line — Miss Waldershare could see. 
 She saw also that Dorcas's poor little hands fell 
 helplessly on her lap — she had instinctively sat 
 down — and then were clasped together in a 
 mute acceptance of the inevitable. 
 
 " I always expected it — he could not help it. 
 He says he did his best. My poor boy ! " 
 
 " Poor girl!" Miss Waldershare felt inclined 
 to say; but she said nothing — only kissed her 
 silently. Then Dorcas leaned her head on her 
 friend's shoulder and wept bitterly. 
 
 " Tears won't do," she said, at last, drying 
 them. " He will be here to-night, no doubt — 
 or to-morrow morning — for he will have to go 
 out to India at once. Papa said he must, if he 
 failed in his matriculation. He has lost only too 
 much time already ; and we are wholly depend- 
 ent upon papa. Oh, my poor boy ! " 
 
 She wrung her hands, oblivious of everything 
 — even of the second letter — which Miss Wal- 
 dershare proposed to open and read. 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER 
 
 37 
 
38 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 " Dear Miss Hall, — ' Plucked ' is a hard 
 word, but Cyprian must not let his courage 
 sink. Many a man has succeeded in the world 
 after being plucked. Perhaps, after all, he is 
 scarcely fit for university life, and this may be 
 for the best in the end. Try to believe so — 
 though I know it is hard. We shall be with you 
 almost as soon as this letter. 
 
 " Yours sincerely, James Moffatt." 
 
 " How kind he is ! " said Miss Waldershare. 
 
 " Yes, very kind." 
 
 And so he was — as kind as Miss Waldershare 
 herself — for the two took counsel together over 
 the helpless sister many a time during the mel- 
 ancholy days which ensued, when it was neces- 
 sary to arrange everything for Cyprian's depart- 
 ure, and for the parting of the twins, literally 
 for the first time in their lives — except that brief 
 attempt at tutoring of which everybody had 
 said as little as possible. 
 
 So great was the despair of both at first that 
 Miss Waldershare suggested Dorcas's going out 
 with him to India. 
 
 The girl shook her head. " No ; it would be 
 too expensive. It would vex papa — he only 
 sent home money for one. Besides " — with a 
 sad casting down of the eyes — " papa does not 
 want me. He never did want us, you know." 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 39 
 
 Miss Waldershare asked no explanation of 
 what was evidently some family difficulty. She 
 saw that Cyprian must go, and Dorcas stay be- 
 hind — at least for the present. It was very 
 sad — so sad that, being more accustomed to go 
 to the house of mourning than to the house of 
 feasting, she put off a grand London visit, and 
 remained still a few days more in the dull little 
 town, where she knew not a creature but these, 
 her sorrowful friends. 
 
 It was a terrible time. Most people nowadays 
 know it — have witnessed or gone through it — 
 when some young member of the family has to 
 be sent away abroad — an agony sharp as death 
 even under the best of circumstances. Coming 
 nearer and nearer each day to the fatal day was 
 almost, as Cyprian declared, " like going to be 
 hanged." 
 
 He felt it very much at first, poor boy ! grew 
 quite thin and white, and could never look at 
 Dorcas without the tears coming into his eyes. 
 But by and by the excitement of preparation 
 comforted him a little. He became such an 
 important person in his little circle, and even in 
 the town, where seldom such a thing was heard 
 of as a young man " going out to India." Even 
 his outfit created a secondary interest, and also 
 his trunks, which the shop-keeper exhibited at 
 
40 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 the door, marked, in white letters, " Cyprian 
 Hall, Esq., Calcutta." There was a pleasant 
 and consolatory side even to this cruel parting. 
 
 "But it shall not be for long, that I am deter- 
 mined on ! " said Cyprian, with great energy. 
 "As soon as ever lam settled I will send out for 
 Dor, and we will live together — bachelor brother 
 and maiden sister — and be as happy as the day 
 is long ; won't we, ' little mother ' ? " 
 
 She half smiled, half sobbed at the word. 
 " Cyprian always sees the bright side of things 
 — and he is right. Don't you think so, Miss 
 Waldershare ? " 
 
 " Yes," answered the elder woman, but thought 
 also how little he thought who it was that had 
 invariably made life turn its sunny side to him, 
 if possible, even though somebody else had to 
 walk in the shade. 
 
 So much so that even the last day was not 
 such a very dreary day at the Terrace, where 
 Miss Waldershare paid her final call at least 
 forty-eight hours before Cyprian's departure. 
 With her constitutional shyness, she thought it 
 best not to stay to the very end, not being a 
 relative, nor exactly a "friend of the family." 
 And, judging by herself, she considered that, 
 after the two were really gone — Mr. Moffatt 
 was to see the poor fellow off from Liverpool,. 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 4 1 
 
 and then come back, en route for Oxford, with 
 the latest news — after that it would be easier 
 for Dorcas to be left quite alone. 
 
 Therefore she bade the twins a cheerful good- 
 by, reminded them both how young they were, 
 and how the world was all before them, and 
 their lot in their own hands, to do what they 
 liked with it almost ; for at twenty, with health, 
 strength, work to do, and the capacity and will 
 to do it, what young man or young woman need 
 feel hopeless or forlorn ? She " preached " a 
 little, yet feeling all the while how vain " preach- 
 ing " is, and how each young soul must buy its 
 own experience in its own way. 
 
 And then she kissed and blessed them both 
 — poor young things ! — now going through the 
 sharpest experience of their existence, and feel- 
 ing their anguish with all the passionate inten- 
 sity of youth, to whom every sorrow appears at 
 the time like a sorrow eternal. 
 
 She understood this — and them : the solitary 
 woman to whom life was no longer a vista of 
 the future, but a dream of the past. And then 
 she went away, walking rather slowly and sadly, 
 and trying hard to believe all the hopeful things 
 she had been saying a few minutes before to 
 both Cyprian and Dorcas, when she was over- 
 taken by a quick footstep : it was Mr. Moffatt's. 
 
42 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 " Allow me to walk home with you," he said. 
 " Oh," seeing she hesitated, "that is no matter! 
 They don't want me." 
 
 A fact which Miss Waldershare could not 
 deny — which, indeed, she had noticed, and been 
 almost sorry for : feeling that the twins did not 
 half appreciate the kindness of a friend so much 
 older than themselves, and so familiar that they 
 both took his devotion for granted. But she, 
 who knew the world better, respected it as a 
 thing only too rare. 
 
 He walked on beside her, talking a good deal 
 about them both, or rather about Cyprian. He 
 did not seem to consider Dorcas as a person to 
 be discussed at all — not even her sorrow, which 
 she bore so silently that her friends instinctively 
 were silent too. 
 
 " Do you think there is the making of a man 
 in that boy ? " said Miss Waldershare, at last, 
 when they were face to face at the hotel door. 
 
 " I hope there is — I think there is — if only 
 he falls into good hands. There are some 
 people, you know, who make themselves and 
 their career ; others are made by circumstances 
 or influences. It remains to be seen under 
 what category we may place Cyprian Hall." 
 
 " And Dorcas ? " said Miss Waldershare, 
 looking fixedly in the eyes of the good, honest 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 43 
 
 man — a curious, penetrating, half-sad, but ex- 
 ceedingly tender look, not unbefitting a kind 
 old woman who had once been young. 
 
 Mr. Moffatt's sallow face blushed all over, but 
 he unhesitatingly returned the gaze. 
 
 "Dorcas cares more for that boy's little 
 finger than for any one alive. I know that. 
 Still, I shall take care of her. I am a poor man 
 — a very poor man— but I shall manage some- 
 how to take care of her." 
 
 " I believe that," was the cordial answer. 
 " God bless you. Good by." 
 
 Six months after this, business again called 
 Miss Waldershare to her native town, and of 
 course she went at once to the Terrace to see 
 Dorcas Hall. Only to look at her, having 
 already heard by letter all the news of Cyprian ; 
 exceedingly good news, so that she was hardly 
 surprised at the gentle content of his sister's 
 face, and the more than usually hopeful tone in 
 which Dorcas spoke of him and everything. 
 
 " Papa " — that long invisible, seldom-named 
 father — had been quite glad to see his eldest 
 son ; he was growing elderly, with a lot of young 
 children. Cyprian might become of the greatest 
 use to him. Cyprian had taken kindly to busi- 
 ness, found it rather "amusing" than other- 
 wise, and liked the gay Calcutta life, where, no 
 
44 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 doubt, he was as great a favorite as he had al- 
 ways been everywhere. He was poor, certainly, 
 for his father only allowed him a clerk's salary, 
 probably all he deserved at first, but he hoped 
 to "make it do," and to earn more by and by. 
 
 " And what does he plan about bringing you 
 out to him ? You must have a dull life here 
 with Miss Moffatt, and he knows it. What does 
 he say ? " 
 
 " Nothing," answered the sister, casting down 
 her eyes. Then, suddenly, in the old apologetic 
 way, " I did not expect anything else. Cyprian 
 used to leave me to do all the planning. He is 
 content with the present. He never looks 
 ahead in any way. I know that." 
 
 " But, surely, as soon as he can, he will send 
 for you or fetch you ? " 
 
 Dorcas again cast down her eyes, and a vivid 
 blush overspread her face. 
 
 " Perhaps — Mr. Moffatt might not quite like 
 me to go." 
 
PaRTIH 
 
 THIRTY TEAR5 OLD 
 
 HE second decade of Miss Walder- 
 share's acquaintance with the twin 
 brother and sister differed a little 
 from the first one. It flew faster — years do 
 fly much faster between twenty and thirty than 
 between ten and twenty. How then must it be 
 between fifty-five and sixty-five? — which she 
 was now : no longer an " elderly," but an old 
 lady. 
 
 A fact which she had at last learned patiently 
 to recognize. Like other active, energetic, and 
 unselfish women, she had resisted fate to the 
 
46 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 last ; maintained her youth and her bright-heart- 
 edness ; refused to succumb to many a cruel 
 shock ; resolved to " die with harness on her 
 back." But the wear and tear of life gradually 
 overcame her. After one bad illness she sud- 
 denly found out that she could not revive as 
 heretofore — that she had grown, to all intents 
 and purposes, an old woman. 
 
 After that she had to learn to be quiet, to let 
 others do her work instead of doing it all her- 
 self ; content if she were still the head, though 
 not the hands as well ; and more than content, 
 thankful, to see the young rising up to do her 
 duties for her, and to work in her stead, against 
 the time when her place should know her no 
 more. 
 
 Something on this wise she wrote to her friend 
 Dorcas Hall. For they had long become 
 
 " A pair of friends 
 Affectionate and true," 
 
 in spite of the difference in their ages, and the 
 great gaps of time that intervened between their 
 meetings, owing to the busy life of both. But 
 they corresponded regularly ; and Dorcas's sim- 
 ple history, as told in her letters, became the 
 strongest interest Miss Waldershare had. Es- 
 pecially so, when for this active woman all the 
 pleasures of existence slowly dwindled down to 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 47 
 
 her own house and garden ; and at last, during 
 the winter months, to the limits of four silent 
 walls. 
 
 Dorcas's letters — they are now arranged and 
 labelled and packed together in a box, to go 
 some day possibly to some rightful owner, if 
 not consigned previously, by still tenderer hands, 
 to that safest receptacle of all treasures — the 
 fire. They began immediately after Cyprian 
 left for India, and were full of him and his doings. 
 Sometimes his letters were enclosed therein — 
 bright, clever, funny, but by no means confiden- 
 tial epistles, if. indeed, he had had anything to 
 con fkle, even to his "little mother." At first 
 they came every mail, then less frequently, then 
 they stopped entirely for a while ; and Dorcas 
 had to deaden her anxiety by the brief tidings 
 she got of him through father and step-mother. 
 
 After that — sudden, startling news! Cy- 
 prian was married — actually married ! at the age 
 of two-and-twenty ; unknown to any one, and to 
 a girl whom nobody had ever heard of. He had 
 met her at some hill-station — a mere child of 
 sixteen — most charming, in spite of a slight 
 touch of the despised Hindoo blood shining 
 through her beautiful brown face. So said Cy- 
 prian, who had fallen madly in love, and in three 
 weeks brought her home to Calcutta as his bride. 
 
48 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 But the father — irritated, and not without 
 cause, at such an imprudent proceeding — turned 
 him adrift, thus depriving him of his clerk's 
 salary, the only income he had. 
 
 "Yet he is so clever — has so many friends 
 — he will speedily find other work," wrote the 
 sister, trying to look on the bright side of things. 
 And it was so, for Cyprian seemed always to 
 fall on his feet. But the breach between him 
 and his father was made — and made for life. 
 
 This was Dorcas's agony ; not the marriage : 
 she forgave that. In the heart of the "little 
 mother " jealousy — sisterly jealousy — was im- 
 possible. 
 
 "He was sure to fall in love ; and to marry 
 early was the best thing that could happen to 
 him. I always told him so. Cyprian could 
 never do without a woman to take care of him. 
 Only I wish he had waited till he had just a lit- 
 tle more money — and — I wish he had not 
 vexed papa ! For all else — look at her likeness. 
 Isn't it a sweet face ? My pretty ' sister ! ' 
 How could he help loving her ? And after all, 
 dear friend, don't you think that love is best ? " 
 
 Whether Miss Waldershare did or not — that 
 Dorcas did, she knew. For James Moffatt had 
 just persuaded her to wait indefinite years, till 
 the Fellowship he now held should result in a 
 College living. 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 49 
 
 " We are not like Cyprian " — and her friend 
 fancied she could almost have seen the smile, 
 half-tender, half-amused, yet just a little sad, 
 with which Dorcas always spoke or wrote of 
 Cyprian — " we can wait. Papa will never need 
 to be angry with us." Which, indeed, was not 
 likely, as Mr. Hall, senior, had always been too 
 indifferent to his daughter to feel either pleas- 
 ure or displeasure at any of her proceedings. 
 
 So time went on ; and Dorcas still lived with 
 Miss Moffatt — upon a very small allowance, ap- 
 parently ; for she began to supplement it in va- 
 rious silent ways, especially in selling her draw- 
 ings, which were remarkably good for an amateur. 
 It was a dull life, except in the long vacation, 
 when Mr. Moffatt came to share her devoted 
 care of his infirm old aunt, and to speculate with 
 her on the chances of that College living which 
 was to open all paradise to these simple souls. 
 But more than one living fell in, and was given 
 to somebody else — somebody more "pushing," 
 or with more College influence than honest 
 James Moffatt. Year after year went by, and 
 he was still a Fellow, and Miss Hall a spinster 
 — travelling through her twenties as she had 
 done through her teens — complaining to no 
 one and troubling no one. Few even knew that 
 she was engaged — she and James being both 
 
50 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 silent people, who preferred not to perplex any 
 one with their affairs. 
 
 Thus she drifted on, till she had ceased to feel 
 herself a girl any more, and one day told Miss 
 Waldershare, with a sort of pathetic amuse- 
 ment, of somebody who had called her a " born 
 old maid." This was about the middle of the 
 ten years. Very soon after, she arrived, quite 
 suddenly and unexpectedly, at Miss Walder- 
 share's door, dressed in deep mourning, looking 
 pale and grave, but with a strange smile, not 
 at all of hopeless misery, creeping about her 
 mouth. 
 
 " I come to you in my trouble," she said ; " I 
 wanted to consult you — James would not un- 
 derstand — it is only a woman that would under- 
 stand." 
 
 "What — what has happened?" looking in 
 dread at her black dress. " Not — not Cyprian ? " 
 
 "No; his wife — poor Issa. She has died, 
 and left him with twins. Think ! twins — 
 brother and sister — just like Cyprian and me 
 — only a month old ! " 
 
 And then her self-restraint of many hours 
 gave way, and Dorcas burst out weeping in her 
 friend's opened arms. 
 
 It was a very sad story, to which, elderly and 
 prudent woman as she was, Miss Waldershare 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 5 1 
 
 could not refuse her sympathy. Rash and 
 foolish as the young couple had been, they had 
 paid for their folly in keen suffering. At the 
 last, the poor dying mother would have wanted 
 the commonest comforts of life, but for the kind- 
 ness which even strangers often show to one 
 another in India. 
 
 " And what of the babies ? Surely your 
 father will relent now, and take the poor help- 
 less babies ! " 
 
 "N — no," said Dorcas, looking clown. " In 
 fact, Cyprian would not have let them go. He 
 preferred sending them, in charge of his wife's 
 ayah, to me." 
 
 " To you ? Good heavens ! " 
 
 "Oh — you could not say I am not to take 
 them ! My poor little babies — Cyprian's own 
 children. Where should he have sent them ex- 
 cept to me ? I was his ' little mother,' you 
 remember ? " 
 
 " But the burden — the trouble — the ex- 
 pense even — in case he does not send money 
 enough to maintain them." 
 
 " He will, or, if not, I can work," said Dorcas, 
 calmly. " I do work as it is. It will be merely 
 keeping the money here instead of sending it." 
 
 Here she stopped, blushing so violently that 
 Miss Waldershare turned her head another 
 
52 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 way. But she had only found out a fact long 
 guessed, that every penny the sister earned and 
 could spare went out to the poor young couple 
 in India. 
 
 " God bless you, my dear ! If you come for 
 my advice, it is — just follow your own. But — 
 Mr. Mofratt?" 
 
 " James is a man who always does his duty — 
 he will never hinder me in doing mine," was the 
 answer, given with much proud confidence. 
 
 " Well, and when do your twins arrive ? " 
 
 " Cyprian put them on board a merchant- 
 vessel, in charge of the captain and his wife. 
 They may arrive any day. Only think — me 
 with my two babies, my dear little twins !" 
 
 " You foolish girl ! and how do you intend to 
 manage them ? " 
 
 " Doesn't somebody — yourself, I think — say 
 that any woman with common sense and a 
 motherly heart can soon learn how to manage 
 a baby ? " 
 
 So, caught in her own trap, Miss Walder- 
 share ceased to look " severe," and entered 
 heartily into the joy, almost extinguishing grief, 
 that filled the heart of Cyprian's " little mother," 
 in having these motherless babies to take care 
 of. The burden of them — and Miss Walder- 
 share foresaw how heavy it was likely to be, 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 53 
 
 for willing shoulders never lack a weight — was 
 wholly forgotten in the inexpressible pride and 
 delight. 
 
 So the two spinsters, young and old, made 
 every preparation for the reception of the 
 babies, feeling as happy as children with a new 
 doll. It was foolish, perhaps, but natural, con- 
 sidering the sort of women they were ; women 
 whom it often pleases Heaven to make child- 
 less, if only for the sake of the many children 
 in this world who are, outwardly, or in reality, 
 motherless. 
 
 And when at last the twins arrived — two 
 poor little skinny things, with great dark eyes 
 and brown, wizened faces, not at all like whole- 
 some English babies — their aunt's pride in 
 them knew no bounds ; for were they not her 
 very own flesh and blood — Cyprian's children, 
 bearing his name ? And as they began to 
 improve in looks, they were not unlike him — 
 or she fancied so. Her happiness in them was 
 something absolutely inexpressible. 
 
 And when, after a month or two, the ayah 
 sailed for India — no slight relief — she took 
 them entirely under her own charge, and, 
 despite the forebodings of neighbors and friends, 
 made a most capital nurse. Instead of dying, 
 which everybody fully expected, the twins — 
 
54 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 " Miss Hall's twins," as they were somewhat 
 oddly called — were, though still brown and 
 thin, as nice and even as pretty children as any 
 on the Terrace — nay, in the whole town. Even 
 old Miss Moffatt was proud of " our children ; " 
 and in her second childhood rather enjoyed 
 having the silent house filled with young voices 
 and the sound of pattering feet. Especially as, 
 being thoroughly healthy, happy, and well 
 cared for, the twins were almost always good. 
 Their education, begun by their aunt at two 
 months old, and never intrusted to any one but 
 herself, was certainly no failure, as many a grave 
 matron had prognosticated it would be, in 
 smiling over the proverbial perfection of " old 
 maids' children." 
 
 ** Trouble ? " wrote Dorcas in answer to some 
 questions of Miss Waldershare's — " the poor 
 little things are no trouble at all. I never 
 amuse them — I teach them to amuse themselves. 
 1 Two kittens and a ball of worsted ' — the grand 
 remedy for low spirits — why my ' kittens ' are 
 far the best, and they never hinder work " 
 (the work which she now owned had become 
 vitally necessary). " ' Auntie busy — must not 
 interrupt auntie,' they say, settle together in a 
 corner of my painting-room — their ' den ' we 
 call it, and there they play together for hours. 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 55 
 
 I keep an eye — or half an eye — upon them, 
 and that is all ; they never trouble me. They 
 are such good little children." 
 
 It did occur to Miss Waldershare that a good 
 nurse generally makes good children, and that 
 those who complain of unruly ones might often, 
 if they looked within, find better cause to com- 
 plain of themselves. But she said nothing. 
 There is a common but shrewd proverb, " The 
 proof of the pudding is in the eating,"and certain- 
 ly no one could see the merry, wholesome, easily 
 managed children and their contented aunt, 
 and not feel that, however she did it, she con- 
 trived to make both them and herself thoroughly 
 happy, without interfering with the happiness 
 of anybody else. Even Mr. Moffatt, though at 
 first a trifle jealous, soon became quite satisfied. 
 For he saw her satisfied ; with her heart full of 
 love, and her life full of duties, which, though 
 not always easy, were always sweet. 
 
 And Cyprian ? — 
 
 Cyprian's letters — which Miss Waldershare 
 sometimes got a sight of — were clever and 
 charming as ever, and became gradually less and 
 less sad. He was not of the temperament that 
 grieves eternally, even for a lost wife. And 
 presently he found plenty of work to do ; though 
 it was hard work, and such small pay, Dorcas 
 
56 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 said, that it was " fortunate " she herself was 
 able to maintain the twins entirely. Dressed 
 very plainly, and brought up simply, they were 
 yet children whom any father might be proud 
 of ; and so would their father be, she hoped, 
 when he came home. 
 
 11 Papa's coming home " — the ideal " papa" 
 whom the twins were constantly told of, and 
 taught to believe in with a passionate admiration, 
 as soon as their little minds could take in any- 
 thing — was now the dream of Dorcas's life. 
 
 " If I could see him once again ! — give his 
 children into his arms, and watch him with them 
 — he used to be so fond of children, and such a 
 favorite with them, as he was with everybody. 
 It is very hard for him to be parted from his 
 pretty twins — many things have been very 
 hard for him ; but I think all is brightening. 
 He is much better off now than he was. Poor 
 Cyprian ! " 
 
 In spite of the advancing prosperity, which 
 showed itself, if not in regular payments, in very 
 valuable Indian presents to herself and the chil- 
 dren — she still called him " poor Cyprian ! " 
 But — it was a curious fact — she never by any 
 chance called Mr. Moffatt " poor James ! " 
 
 No, not though he worked hard and had few 
 pleasures : his Fellowship barely gave him 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 57 
 
 enough to live on, and the College living still 
 hung afar off " in the clouds." But he trusted 
 Dorcas, and she trusted him ; they wrote con- 
 stantly, and met occasionally, whenever they 
 could. And what is it that makes happiness ? 
 I think, not prosperity ; not even the attainment 
 of all one wishes, but the power of enjoying 
 what one has. A clean heart, a quiet conscience, 
 a loving and faithful soul — these, in spite of 
 outward circumstances, will create a happy, at 
 least a not unhappy life. Therefore, I refuse 
 to consider James Moffatt and Dorcas Hall al- 
 together miserable. 
 
 Miss Waldershare, seeing this, ceased to be 
 needlessly miserable concerning them. In truth, 
 as the years slipped by, her restless anxiety over 
 those she loved somewhat abated. She learned 
 to trust Heaven a little more, and herself a little 
 less ; to believe that the Father above would 
 take care of her dear ones as well as she could 
 — possibly a little better. Therefore, though 
 she and Dorcas, tied by many duties, seldom 
 met face to face, still she rested content about 
 her friend, until one day, when, to her great 
 surprise, she got a letter from Cyprian. 
 
 " I am not quite easy concerning my sister," 
 he wrote ; " and would be grateful to you to tell 
 me exactly how she is. She rarely speaks of 
 
58 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 herself, but now she owns to being 'not strong;' 
 and is very anxious that I should come home. 
 Why? She is young still — we are not thirty 
 yet" — that half-comical, yet infinitely pathetic 
 " we " of twins. " But if her health is really 
 
 failing, what should I do? Who would take 
 care of my children ? I trust to you, her faith- 
 ful friend, to tell me the exact truth concerning 
 her." 
 
 Which, having exerted all her small strength 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 59 
 
 in a four days' visit to Dorcas, Miss Waldershare 
 did. 
 
 " I do not consider your sister 'failing,' " was 
 the letter that went out to Calcutta by the next 
 mail, " but she is naturally delicate, and she has 
 had a hard life. Two children to bring up — 
 first to earn the money, and then to spend it " 
 (Miss Waldershare could be severely candid 
 when she thought right), " a feeble old lady to 
 take charge of, and the anxiety of a doubtful fu- 
 ture ; being torn in two, as it were — for when 
 Mr. Moffatt does get the living which is prom- 
 ised him, and seems very near now, what is she 
 to do ? No man likes to enter on married life 
 burdened with another man's children. Yes, 
 my dear Cyprian, though not failing now, she 
 may fail. I do think it would be right and best 
 for you to come home." 
 
 Having written thus strongly, and without 
 delay — for she felt these things ought to be 
 said, and who was there to say them but her- 
 self ? — Miss Waldershare was a long time be- 
 fore she heard any further ; for shortly afterwards 
 she fell ill, and lingered weeks and months in 
 that sort of semi-existence when everything but 
 the things close at hand seems to grow dim, and 
 she began to understand clearer how, by and 
 by, the outside world and all its interests might 
 
60 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 fade away from her altogether, almost without 
 pain. 
 
 She had been a little surprised that Dorcas 
 Hall never came to see her, never offered to 
 come ; though writing regularly, and telling all 
 the news about everybody, except herself. But 
 these letters, so sweet and cheerful, as well as 
 punctual, took away all suspicion that anything 
 was wrong. 
 
 More especially as each letter brought brighter 
 tidings. Mr. Moffatt had at last got the ex- 
 pected living in Derbyshire, such a pretty neigh- 
 borhood, and a prettier parsonage — everything 
 they could both desire. And Cyprian was com- 
 ing home — they hoped in time for the marriage. 
 Also, not alone. The twins would have to wel- 
 come not only their unknown father, but a step- 
 mother — young, and, by her letters, very sweet 
 and good. 
 
 This last piece of news Dorcas communicated 
 by word of mouth, waiting beside Miss Walder- 
 share at the station, whither, on her way to Bux- 
 ton Baths, the invalid had begged to be met. 
 By a battalion, as it turned out — Mr. Moffatt, 
 Dorcas, and the little twins, now growing quite 
 big children. 
 
 " I have told them they must learn to say 
 ' mamma,' and that they are sure to love her. I 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 6l 
 
 was not surprised — indeed I was quite glad," 
 she added. " Cyprian needed a wife so much ; 
 and he has waited a long time." 
 
 " Yes, six years is a long time, and men don't 
 like waiting," said Miss Waldershare, rather 
 satirically. " There is almost no such thing 
 as a faithful man " 
 
 " Except James," said Dorcas, gently, as she 
 held out her hand to him with a smile. To the 
 end of her days Miss Waldershare will never 
 forget that look and that smile. 
 
 Somewhat to her friend's surprise, Dorcas 
 never referred to the question as to what was to 
 be done with the twins when the father came 
 home, or after he went back to India again. 
 Nor did she speak much of her own future, 
 scarcely of the future at all. She seemed quite 
 absorbed in the happy present. 
 
 " Only to think, in one week Cyprian will be 
 at home ! After ten years — ten long, anxious 
 years. He will look quite middle-aged, I dare 
 say. I shall hardly know him — or he me. 
 Oh yes, we shall, — we shall ! And I shall show 
 him his children, just like what he and I were 
 in the days when I was his ' little mother.' Do 
 you remember? " 
 
 Miss Waldershare did remember ; and thought, 
 irradiated by this wonderful flood of joy, Dorcas, 
 
62 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 pale and thin as she was, looked almost like the 
 little Dorcas of the children's tea-party so many 
 years ago. They spoke of it — and of heaps 
 of other things — spending a most merry hour 
 together : till at last the train started, and 
 Miss Waldershare caught her last glimpse of 
 the little group standing, as they would so soon 
 stand on Southampton Quay — Dorcas with her 
 two children, one in each hand — waiting for the 
 ship with " papa " on board. 
 
 After that day, for more than ten days she 
 heard nothing of the Halls. She thought, per- 
 haps, they were too happy to remember her, 
 and, being very suffering herself, was almost 
 glad. When just making up her mind to write 
 and say so, in the tenderest and least obtrusive 
 way, she took up a two-days-old Times , and there 
 read, in that fatal column which we often glance 
 over so idly — as being no concern of ours — 
 the " Deaths." 
 
 "On the 24th, very suddenly, aged thirty 
 years, Miss Dorcas Hall." 
 
 That same day a letter from James Moffatt, 
 brief and subdued, full of the quiet grief of one 
 who knows he has half a lifetime still to work 
 and to grieve in, explained everything. 
 
 People have died of joy, it is said : if any one 
 ever did so die, it was surely Dorcas Hall. 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 63 
 
 As they found out afterward, she had been 
 ailing for some time, but said nothing ; and had 
 even supported, with a marvellous courage, five 
 days of killing suspense, when the Indian mail 
 became overdue ; and there were vague reports 
 of some terrible disaster having happened in the 
 Red Sea. But on the sixth day there came a 
 telegram from Southampton, from Cyprian : 
 " Arrived safe and well ; shall be with you this 
 evening." 
 
 It was too much. Uttering a cry, almost a 
 shriek of joy, she clasped her hands in thank- 
 fulness, then put them suddenly to her heart. 
 In a moment, without a word or moan, with the 
 smile still on her lips, and the telegram grasped 
 in her fingers, Dorcas was "away." She had 
 
 " Taken up her crown and gone home," 
 
 according to a sweet childish song — American 
 and negro — which she was fond of singing to 
 her little twins. All that day and night it rung 
 in Miss Waldersh are's half-stunned brain, 
 
 " She has taken up her crown and gone home, 
 And the angels are waiting at the door." 
 
 But, poor Cyprian. Feeble as she was, the 
 very next day Miss Waldershare put herself in 
 the train, and went to see Cyprian. 
 
 The terrace looked exactly as usual ; just as 
 
64 HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 it had done twenty years before, when she 
 went to the children's tea-party. Old Miss 
 Moffatt sat at the open window, basking in the 
 summer sunshine, in her peaceful second child- 
 hood. There were no blinds down, of course ; 
 all had happened a week ago ; they had resumed 
 that old life — Dorcas was quite — quite " away." 
 
 Miss Waldershare was shown into the draw- 
 ing-room, where sat writing a tall, handsome 
 bearded man — farther off a lady, very sweet 
 looking, was trying to amuse two children — her 
 children. 
 
 " We try to make them happy, and we shall 
 succeed by and by," said Cyprian, after the first 
 bitter half-hour. " They are our own dear 
 children." 
 
 " And such good children," added Cyprian's 
 wife. "I never saw such good children." 
 
 " It is all her doing," the father exclaimed. 
 " You knew what she was, and what she was to 
 me, even when we were no older than these 
 twins. They will never forget her — nor I. 
 She has done everything for me all my life ; and 
 now when I might have done something for 
 her—" 
 
 " God has done it differently," said Miss 
 Waldershare, laying her hand on the shoulder 
 of the big, strong man, who had sunk down 
 
HIS LITTLE MOTHER. 
 
 65 
 
 sobbing like a baby. " Be content. He knows 
 best." 
 
 "I believe that. But oh my ' little mother' 
 — my 'little mother ! ' " 
 
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