and even then, though I was badly wanted
at home, I could hardly find it in my heart to
tear myself away from the children and the old
master, who was getting infirm and weakly, like
mother; for he was in years when he married,
being a minister on a middling sort of a salary,
and he had made up his mind not to venture
upon the expenses of a family till he had saved
one thousand pounds clear, so that he was
upwards of forty before he had gathered all that
sum together, and invested it somewhere in a
way that brought him in nearly fifty pounds a
year. Mrs. Ambery, poor dear, had been waiting
for him ever since she was a girl of twenty,
and he only five years older; waiting all that
weary time, with an ache and pain at her heart,
as her girlhood passed by and the prime of her
years faded, till her hair began to grow grey,
and all across her forehead were fine little
wrinkles that could be seen plainly enough by
daylight. On her wedding-day, when the sun
shone as brightly as if she was only twenty
again, you could have counted the lines one by
one as soon as she lifted up her white veil to
sign her name in the register. She used to tell
me often how different her wedding-day was to
what she had fancied it would be when she was
a girl, and all her married life as well, she would
say sometimes, with a sigh. Not that they
were not happy, the minister and his wife, but
they had waited so long that they had grown
into grave, elderly, sobered people; and when
the children came, though they were only three
little girls, it made a terrible upset in their
quiet lives. They were as fond of them as could
be; but Mr. Ambery had his own old bachelor
ways, and the poor dear mistress liked to have
her regular hours for reading and meditation, and
minding all sorts of good things, which the young
creatures could not be expected to understand,
though Rebecca, the eldest, was the gravest
child I ever saw at three years old, when I went
to be nurse to her and Katie. That child danced
once for a few seconds when I was trimming
her Sunday bonnet with some sky-blue ribbon
that a lady of the congregation gave me for the
purpose; but I never saw her so light again,
though I'm sure nobody blamed the little thing
for it: only she had the tenderest conscience
for a child I ever knew, and Mrs. Ambery
taught her all Watts's Divine Songs for children.
At times I thought to myself that the thousand
pounds, though it was a large sum of money,
had cost the minister and his wife a good deal
more than it was worth, and I fancy Mrs.
Ambery thought so likewise; for one day when
she came into the nursery whilst the two
youngest children were having a fine game of
romp with me, she passed her thin hand across
her wrinkled forehead, and over her dim eyes,
and she said, " Mary, I'd give a thousand pounds
to have a game like that, but I've no spirits
left. I should have made a better mother if I
had been married years ago. Don't you put it
off too long."

"Well, poor dear Mrs. Ambery was taken away
from her husband and children when Rebecca
was just eight years old. The little children
sat in the pew with their father on the Sunday
night when the pastor from another church
preached Mrs. Ambery's funeral sermon, and
everybody wept, and said it was a very affecting
occasion. There was the grave child Rebecca,
and pretty Katie, just turned six, and little
delicate Nellie, not quite four; while Mr.
Ambery, who had never looked a young man,
seemed stricken fully ten years older by the
death of his Catherine, who had waited for him
to save up his one thousand pounds, until her
strength and spirits were quite worn out.

If the children had been old enough to be
company for him, the master might have borne
up better; but as it was, he began to mope
in an absent kind of way, as if he had lost
something, and could not recollect what it was.
The congregation said his sermons were not as
good as they used to be; and, after they had
given him six months to recover himself in, they
sent a deputation to reason with him about
resignation and Providence. The servant of
one of the deputation told me that my
master answered nothing, but bowed his face
down upon his hands, and wept speechlessly,
till no one of them had dry eyes himself. After
that, they called a meeting, and collected fifty
pounds to send him a tour on the Continent,
which he went, sadly and alone, writing home
to the children letters full of their poor dead
mother, till I could not read them to the little
creatures for my own crying.

Over two years after the master had been
wandering all by himself about the Continent
which did him very little good, he called me
into his study one night after the children
were gone to bed. I was in a tremble, for
I always had that opinion of men, that if any
one of them could have an angel to be his
wife, and she died, he would be drawn in to
marry any designing woman who set her mind
upon it, and I had reason to know that there
were three or four persons in the congregation,
widows or old maids, who were ready enough
to take Mrs. Ambery's place, and become step-
mother to my darlings. I was prepared to
speak up against it with all my might; but I
went into my master's study meekly, and stood
quiet, not showing how I trembled, just inside
the door.

"Mary," said Mr. Ambery, who was sitting
by the fire, stooping badly, as he had done ever
since she died, and shaking his poor white head
every now and then, as if everything in this
world was good for nothing— "Mary, come
forward and sit down by the fire. I want to
speak with you."

The tremble was worse then; but I made shift
to cross the room and sit down as he bade me,
and as I looked into his face, which was greatly
troubled, I saw the tears standing in his eyes.
He seemed like a man in that weakly, undecided
frame of mind, that wanted somebody to settle
it up for him, and I was quite ready to do it if
the burden upon it had anything to do with
marrying again.