No, James should not have that hundred pounds after all. She had spent twenty years sewing on his buttons, mending for him, and thinking of him and his comforts, during which time James had never said, 'Mother, come, let us go away. You must be tired of all this monotony.' She had packed his bag and unpacked it for his various holidays, but he had never asked her to accompany him even for a few days. Now her sands were almost run, and James knew it; but James was young, and thought it natural that his elders should die out. He was very kind in his way during these days, and said often, that it was well he was at home, so as to be beside her when the end came. That would always be his duty, he said. He had hinted about the tradesman's daughter. It must be a comfort to a mother to know her son was settled before she left him.
'But oh, James,' she murmured aloud, 'if you only knew: I don't care for any one just now but myself. I am selfish: I only want to think about my own short life, to live it my own way for my last year. Indeed, my last year will be my real life, for I have only existed up to this. I shall throw care to the winds and live every minute of
