10 TURNS OF FORTUNE.

The room had been the drawing-room of the
old house in which Mr. Bond and his daughtet
resided, but for the sake of saving both labour
and expense, he had had his bed removed into
it; and though anything but comfortable, a so-
litary, impoverished, and yet gorgeous appear-
ance pervaded the whole, such as those who
delineate interiors, loving small lights and deep
shadows, would covet to convey to their can-
vass. The bed upon which the old man lay
was canopied, and of heavy crimson damask.
In the dim light of that spacious room, it look-
ed to the worn-out eyes of Sarah Bond more
like a hearse than a bed. Near it was an old
spinnet, upon which stood a labelled vial, a tea-
cup, and a spoon. When Sarah seated her-
self at the table, she placed her elbows upon it,
and pressed her folded hands across her eyes ;
no sigh or moan escaped her, but her chest
heaved convulsively ; and when she removed
her hands, she drew a Bible toward her, trimmed
the lamp, and began to read.

The voice of an old French clock echoed
painfully through the chamber. Sarah longed
to stop it, and yet it was a companion in her
watchings. Once, a Shy, suspicious, bright-
eyed mouse rattled among the cinders, and ran
into the wainscot, and then came out again,
and stared at Sarah Bond, who, accustomed
to such visits, did not raise her eyes to inquire
into the cause of the rustling which m a few

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