into the house and up-stairs to her mother's room with as much enthusiasm as though she had found a bag of gold, instead of having obtained a very simple dinner.

"O, mother, I've got a lot of flounders and some bread for you!" exclaimed she, as she bolted into the room.

"Then you have money," said a cold voice in the chamber; and Katy perceived, standing near the bed on which her mother lay, a man who was no stranger to her.

It was Dr. Flynch; but let not my young reader make a mistake. He was no good Samaritan, who had come to pour oil and wine into the wounds of the poor sick woman; not even a physician, who had come to give medicine for a fee, to restore her to health and strength. It is true he was called a doctor, and he had been a doctor, but he did not practice the healing art now. If he had failed to make a physician, it was not because his heart was so tender that he could not bear to look upon pain and suffering. He was the agent of Mrs. Gordon, a widow lady, who owned the house in which Katy's mother lived. He collected her rents, and transacted all her business; and as far as dollars and cents were concerned, he had certainly been a faithful servant. Dr. Flynch was a prudent and discreet man, and did not hurt the feelings of the good lady who employed him by telling her about the difficulties he encountered in the discharge of his duty, or by describing the harsh and even cruel means to which he was sometimes obliged to resort, in order to obtain the rent of poor tenants.

"Mrs. Redburn," said Dr. Flynch, when he had heard the exclamation of Katy, "you have told me a falsehood. You said you had no money, not a cent. Where did you get that roll, child?"

"At the store at the corner of the court," replied Katy, abashed by the cold dignity of the agent.

"Precisely so, Mrs. Redburn; but you do not buy bread without money. You have attempted to deceive me. I have pitied you up to the present time, and indulged you in the non-payment of your rent for over a week I can do so no longer, for you have told me a falsehood."

"No, sir, I have not," pleaded the sick woman.

"Your child buys bread."

"I did not give her the money."

"Where did you get the money to buy that roll with?" demanded Dr. Flynch, turning sharply to Katy.

"Tommy Howard gave it to me."

"Who is Tommy Howard?"

"He lives on the other side of the court."

"Very probable that a dirty, ragged boy gave her the money! This is another false-hood, Mrs. Redburn. I lament that a person in your situation should have no higher views of Christian morality than to lie yourself, and teach your child to lie, which is much worse."

The poor woman burst into tears, and protested that she had told the truth, and nothing but the truth; declaring that Katy was a good girl, that she had eaten nothing that day, and would not tell a lie. Dr. Flynch was a man of method, and when a tenant did not pay the rent, it was his purpose to get rid of that tenant in the quietest way possible. In the present case there was a difficulty, and public opinion would not justify him in turning a sick woman out of the house; but if she lied, had money concealed, and would not pay her rent, it would alter the matter. As he wished to believe this was the case, he had no difficulty in convincing himself, and thus quieting his poor apology for a conscience.

Besides being a man of method, Dr. Flynch was a man of upright walk and conversation; at least, he passed for such with those who did not know anything about him. If Mrs. Gordon should happen to hear that he had turned out the sick woman, he could then inform her how feelingly he had pointed out to her the wickedness of her conduct, which he thought would sound exceedingly well.

"Mrs. Redburn," he continued, "I will give you till this time to-morrow to get out of the house; if you are not gone then, I shall be under the painful necessity of removing your goods into the street. Good morning;" and Dr. Flynch turned upon his heel, and walked out of the room.

"My poor child! what will become of us?" sobbed the sick woman, as she grasped Katy's hand, and pressed it to her bosom with convulsive energy.

"Don't cry, mother; something can be done. I will go and see Mrs. Gordon, and beg her to let you stay here."

"You must not do that; Dr. Flynch told me, if I troubled her about the house, I should not stay in it another minute, even if I paid the rent."

"He is a bad man, mother; and I don't believe Mrs. Gordon knows what he does here."

"There is one thing more we can do, Katy," continued Mrs. Redburn, wiping away her tears, and taking from under her pillow a heavy silver watch. "This was your father's; but we must sell it now. It is all we have left."

"I should hate to have that sold, mother."

"We must sell it, or pawn it."

"We will pawn it then."

"How shall we do it? I have not strength to rise, and they will cheat you if you offer it."

"I will tell you what I can do, mother; I will get Simon Sneed to go with me to the pawnbroker's shop. He is very kind to me, and I know he will. He comes home to dinner at two o-clock."

This plan was agreed to, and Katy then went to work to clean and cook the flounders.

CHAPTER II.

THE HISTORY OF THE SILVER WATCH.

Katy Redburn was only eleven years old, and not a very accomplished cook; but as the children learn faster in the homes of the poor than in the dwellings of the rich, she had a very tolerable idea of the management of a frying-pan. The operation of cleaning the flounders was the greatest trial, for the skin of the fish has to be removed. She cut her fingers with the knife, and scratched and pricked her hands with the sharp bones; but she was resolute, and finally accomplished the task to her entire satisfaction. An occasional direction from her mother enabled her to cook the fish properly, and dinner was ready. There were still a few small stores left in the closet, and Katy made a cup of tea for her mother, and with it placed the delicate little flounder by the side of the bed. The invalid had no appetite, but to please Katy she ate a portion of the fish and bread though it was very hard work for her to do so. The little girl, gladdened by this unwonted sight, made a hearty meal, without a thought of the trials and sorrows which the future might have in store for them.

When she had put away the dishes, and placed everything in order, she washed herself, combed her hair, sewed up a great rent in her dress, and otherwise attempted to make herself as tidy as possible for the mission she was about to undertake.

"It is not time for you to go yet, Katy; and before the watch is carried off, I want to tell you something about your father, that you may learn to prize it as I do."

Katy seated herself on the side of the bed, for she was very anxious to hear more about her father than she already knew. She had often asked her mother about him, but she had generally evaded her questions, and did not seem willing to tell her all she knew. She thought there was some secret connected with his history, and with a child's curiosity she was eager to have the mystery unfolded. But it was no great secret, after all only a painful history, which her sensitive mother did not like to rehearse. Mrs. Redburn handed the watch to Katy, and asked her to look upon the back of it.

"Yes, mother, I have often seen those words on there—'All for the Best.' What do they mean?" said Katy.

"This watch was given to your father by my father," replied Mrs. Redburn, with a deep sigh, for the words seemed to recall happy memories of the past.

"Who was your father?" asked the attentive little girl.

"His name was Matthew Guthrie. He was a merchant in Liverpool, England, where I was born."

"A merchant, mother? Then he was a rich man, and lived in a great house, and had plenty of servants."

"He