Aikin, "enough for us both; say, Juliet, will you go and live with me?"
Juliet hung her head; the children looked as if they were afraid she would say yes.
"Ah," added Mr. Barlow, in a tone of disappointment, "I thought you loved me, Juliet."
"So I do, sir; but—but it's so pleasant living here."
William Aikin, whose expressions were as impulsive as his feelings, clapped his hands, and the children all manifested, some in one way, some in another, their delight.
"Juliet is right," said Mr. Barlow, in a low tone, to Harry Aikin; "it is so pleasant living here, that, when I go away, I shall have that dismal feeling Juliet so dreads, that feeling of being alone. Oh, how many times have I wished the goodness and happiness in your family could be known. It would be a lesson to many a proud rich man—to many a discontented poor one."
"That's just what I say, Mr. Barlow," said Uncle Phil, rubbing his hands; "I tell you our folks are samples, and the whole secret of it is, that every one does their best—that is to say, lives up to their light, and if anybody can do any better than that, I should like to know how; but come, the breakfast is cooling while we are sarmonizing, as it were."
The breakfast was despatched; Aikin went to his daily business; Aunt Lottie and Juliet to nursing Paulina; Uncle Phil to a stroll in the sunshine with little Phil; Mr. Barlow, it being Saturday and a holyday, sat down in a corner with a book; and Mrs. Aikin was setting all "to rights"
