114 Zom Seven Years Old.

“We'll carry it down now,” said Tom,
“and put it under your coat and hat, because
it’s yours, you know, and no longer mine, and
you must take it away when you go.”

They walked downstairs to the drawing-
room.

“See!” cried Archie, running up to Tom's
mamma; “he’s given ittome! It's mine—
my very own!”

She turned round. Then she looked at
Tom and smiled. She did not say anything
aloud in words, but her eyes said plainly—

“T understand, Tom. You have given up
the thing you liked best, as the martyrs did,
and made somebody else happy instead of
yourself.”

And Tom felt as happy himself as though
he had got his accordion back, or never given
it away. It was a delicious secret between
them. Only in the evening, when he was
saying “Good-night,” he could not help
whispering to her, “Tell papa.”