The Contrast. 9

 

. John crimsoned as the carrier spoke, and
took hold of Stephen’s hand.

“Yes,” he cried stoutly. “He is my brother,
and he is coming to live with aunt and me
now.”

Stephen stood hanging his head and taking
no notice.

“Well, to be sure!” said Mr. Brown, and
he drove off without any more words, looking
back, However, more than once at the boys, who
were walking soberly along the road, until a
turning was passed and he lost sight of them.

By-and-by he came to a pretty little farm-
house like a nest among the trees, just then
unfolding their new spring leaves. Here he
stopped and lifted out Stephen’s box, while a
woman in a widow’s dress, with a sweet, sad
face, came hastily down the little garden path
and opened the gate to him.

“Has my nephew come, Mr. Brown?” she
asked eagerly.

“That he has, Mrs, Baynes; and a fine
rough one he looks—not a bit like your
Johnnie.”

“Poor little fellow! he has been brought
up very differently,” she answered. “They
were left orphans when they were quite little
things. I took Johnnie, but poor Stephen