"Bless my soul! you don't mean to say you have been up here all this time, Rose?" asked John, throwing open the door of the attic. "Why, bless my soul! Mrs. Howe told me that you were fixed very comfortable, and all that. I did not know any thing about it," said the penitent John, gazing at Charley's pale face. "This won't do; you must go down stairs. Why, bless my soul! you shall go down stairs," and before Rose could reply, John had called Patty.

"Look here," said John, "take all those medicines and traps down into the best spare chamber, and bring up a blanket to wrap the baby in; for these folks are going down stairs."

"But, Mrs. Howe, sir, said that none of us was to wait on 'em on no account, sir, and I—"

"Do what I tell you," said John, "down with these medicines, quick. Why, bless me," he muttered, looking around, "no carpet on the floor, no—why—bless me—" and the good-natured John looked from Rose to the baby, and from the baby to Rose, and at last stooped and gave Charley an atoning kiss.

"Had you not better let us stay where we are?" asked Rose, wishing to avert from the head of her pro tem. protector the storm she knew would be sure to burst upon it. "I am very sorry that Charley was taken sick here, and that we have been so much trouble to you; very sorry that I"—and Rose's voice began to tremble.

"You need not be sorry for any thing at all, any thing," said the distressed John, "so, don't cry, it is a burning sha—well—never mind; give me that little fellow, and follow me down stairs. Why, bless my soul! no carpet on the floor—no—I had no idea of it."

"There now, Patty," said he, facing that astonished damsel, "go fill that ewer with fresh water, and don't wait for these folks to ring to find out whether they want any thing or not."

Patty stared at him as if she thought he were drunk or dreaming.

"D'ye hear?" said John.

"Y—e—s, s—i—r," said Patty, leaving her mouth wide open after this reply, as though there were several little remarks she might make, if she only dared.

Ah, well might little Charley open his wondering eyes at the crimson silk bed-curtains, looped away over his cherub head. He had never lain on so dainty a bed of roses as was embroidered on that gorgeous coverlet; and as Rose sank down beside him into one of those luxuriously-cushioned chairs, and laid her beautiful head back, with her finely-chiseled profile relieved against its crimson damask, John thought how well both mother and child became their new surroundings.

Yes, Rose's picture should have been taken at that moment, with her unbound tresses, and her little hands crossed in her lap in such dreary hopelessness. But when was she not a picture? and what has beauty ever brought its possessor, but a broken heart?

"You will see the end of this," said Patty, to the cook, laying her forefinger mysteriously on the bridge of her nose. "You will see what's what, when Mrs. Howe comes home; those folks will be tramped back into the attic in double quick time."

"What will you bet on that?" said Nancy; "men get tired after awhile of being led by the nose. I will bet you that pair of gold ear-rings you have been hankering after, that they will stay where they are."

"Done!" exclaimed Patty, "and I will bet you my new silk apron, with the satin pockets, that they go back in the attic in less than twenty-four hours from now. Hark! there comes Mrs. Howe home this minute; now we shall see;" and Patty set the kitchen door wide open, that no sound might escape her.

John was pacing up and down the library, whither he had retired, after moving Rose into the best spare chamber. He was naturally a good-hearted fellow, but his constitutional indolence had made him a willing slave of his crafty, designing wife. John hated nothing so much as trouble. Inch after inch of ground he had yielded to the enemy, rather than contend for its possession. Now that the excitement of his late involuntary declaration of independence was over, he began to reflect upon the probable consequences, to listen nervously for the door-bell; in fact, he felt very much more like running away than "facing the music."

He had done penance before now, by drinking muddy coffee, eating half-boiled potatoes, raw meat, and smoky puddings. He had groaned under three weeks of sulks, with which Mrs. Howe had been afflicted, on account of what she considered his conjugal misdemeanors. He had missed his business memorandum-book for days together; been obliged to go out the back door, instead of the front; had stood on one leg three quarters of an hour at a friend's house, whither he had escorted Mrs. Howe to a party, waiting for that lady to rejoin him to enter the drawing-room; she, meanwhile, reclining composedly in an arm-chair in the ladies' dressing-room, leisurely enjoying the penance she was inflicting. He had been called out of the party at an early hour, to wait upon her ladyship home, merely because he seemed to be enjoying it; he had slept with the window open when it was cold, and slept with it shut when it was hot. No wonder John felt a little nervous.

"There it is—there it is," said Patty, rubbing her hands, "there's the bell for me," and up she ran, confident of winning the coveted gold ear-rings.

"Patty?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Mrs. Howe's face was pale with rage as, beckoning Patty to follow her, she pointed through the open door of the best chamber at Rose and the baby, to whom she had not deigned to speak.

"It was Mr. Howe's doings, ma'am. I told him you would be angry, and so I didn't want to have no hand in it, but Lor', ma'am, he made me; it wasn't no fault of mine, because I know'd it was agin' your wishes, and so I made bold to tell him, ma'am."

"Hold your tongue. Take those messes (pointing to the medicines) up into the attic, and then come back and get that baby."

Rose clasped Charley closer to her bosom, for Mrs. Howe's face was demoniac in its rage.

"Out with you," said Mrs. Howe, taking Rose by the shoulder and pointing to the door.

"Patty."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You see now," said that amiable lady, locking the door of the spare room, and putting the key into her pocket, "whom you are to mind—who is master in this house—do you? Go down into the kitchen."

"There—didn't I tell you so?" asked the triumphant Patty of the crest-fallen cook; "now for my gold ear-rings."

"Not that you know of," said Nancy.

"What do you mean? Didn't you say that if—"

"I said," said Nancy, crossing her two stubby forefingers, "that I would bet you that pair of gold ear-rings you wanted, that they would stay where they were; meaning that the ear-rings would stay where they were—in the jeweler's shop."

"It is right down mean," said the pouting Patty; "see if I am not even with you before the week is out."