: Won at last by Giberne Agnes - Christian life Juvenile fiction; Conduct of life Juvenile fiction; Domestic fiction; England Juvenile fiction; Cousins Juvenile fiction; Poor families Juvenile fiction; Wills Juvenile fiction

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CHAP.

WON AT LAST.

"MOTHER," Cherry said, slowly drawing some thread through her needle, and sighing,--"Mother, Cress wants another pair of outdoor shoes."

It was the old story; Cresswell always wanting something new, and Cherry his twin-sister having to tell me of his needs. Jack did not require half so many things.

"Cress must wait a little longer," I answered.

"I don't think he can, mother," Cherry said, lifting her quiet eyes to mine. "He spoke about it this morning, as he was starting for school. I told him I was afraid you mightn't be able to get them just now; and he said he must have a pair."

Cherry was at that time close upon sixteen. She had no pretensions to good looks, but was rather short, with a plump figure, and smooth hair. I never saw anybody with a more beautifully smooth head than my Cherry, or with more delicately clean hands. No matter what Cherry had to do, she always managed to keep herself nice. That word exactly describes her. She was perpetually busy, and ready to undertake any sort of work that had to be done; yet nobody ever came across Cherry in an untidy state. She never failed to look nice. I used to think I wouldn't exchange this in our girl for any amount of mere prettiness.

"Cress' 'must' may have to go down before a stronger 'must,'" I said. Yet even while I spoke the words, I was wondering whether something else might not be given up instead. "How if there is not enough money to pay for the shoes?"

Cherry looked troubled, and made no immediate answer. She was putting a patch into a small pair of trousers, and her fingers went deftly on with their task. It was late in February, and the afternoons were growing quickly longer: no small comfort as regarded candles and work. We had much mending to get through, for the task of keeping six growing boys respectably dressed, upon our small income, proved to be one of increasing difficulty.

My husband was clerk in a London mercantile house. His father, old Mr. Hazel, had been a farmer in one of the midland counties. Had Robert taken to the same line, he might have done well. But neither my Robert nor his brother Churton seemed to have anything of the farmer in them. Robert came to London, expecting to make his fortune. He was fond of books, and his own family thought him clever; only there are so many clever men in the great city. He managed to get a small clerkship, and there he remained year after year.

Once or twice he had a slight rise, and that was all. When Robert fell in love with me, and we married, both of us were young, and life looked hopeful, and we expected all kinds of good things to happen. But by the time of which I am writing, Robert and I had pretty well left off looking for any change, except of course that by-and-by some of our boys would be out in the world. The difficulty was, how to get them out, and where to place them.

Robert's position did not imply much money for a family of nine. We had no regular servant, beyond a girl in three times a week for half-a-day, to do some of the cleaning. Even this help we sometimes talked of giving up altogether.

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