" "I'm not afraid, mother," said the little girl, smelling at the bouquet. . I can esteem him, regard him; but, love him as he ought to be loved—that I cannot do. Of all crafts,—and it was the only craft his poor father, who, to do him justice, was one of the best workmen that ever handled a saw or drove a nail, could never understand,—of all crafts, I say, to be an honest man is the master-craft. “What else can happen?” asked Miss Miniver, with a little weak gesture at the glow. Even the love of a mother does not sway him. It was not a hopeful looking group. ’ Before the major could verify this, the lady reappeared. Through no fault of her own. This year—I’ve got it badly. They thought that he was dead at first, and they took him to the hospital.
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