others in admiration of the girl who had conquered the
stubbornness of her stern old aunt and proved herself so unselfish and
true.

One morning Aunt Jane had Phibbs wheel her into her little garden, as
usual, and busied herself examining the flowers and plants of which
she had always been so fond.

"James has been neglecting his work, lately," she said, sharply, to
her attendant.

"He's very queer, ma'am," replied old Martha, "ever since the young
ladies an' Master John came to Elmhurst. Strangers he never could
abide, as you know, and he runs and hides himself as soon as he sees
any of 'em about."

"Poor James!" said Miss Merrick, recalling her old gardener's
infirmity. "But he must not neglect my flowers in this way, or they
will be ruined."

"He isn't so afraid of Master John," went on Phibbs, reflectively, "as
he is of the young ladies. Sometimes Master John talks to James,
in his quiet way, and I've noticed he listens to him quite
respectively--like he always does to you, Miss Jane."

"Go and find James, and ask him to step here," commanded the mistress,
"and then guard the opening in the hedge, and see that none of my
nieces appear to bother him."

Phibbs obediently started upon her errand, and came upon James in the
tool-house, at the end of the big garden. He was working among his
flower pots and seemed in a quieter mood than usual.

Phibbs delivered her message, and the gardener at once started
to obey. He crossed the garden unobserved and entered the little
enclosure where Miss Jane's chair stood. The invalid was leaning back
on her cushions, but her eyes were wide open and staring.

"I've come, Miss," said James; and then, getting; no reply, he looked
into her face. A gleam of sunlight filtered through the bushes and
fell aslant Jane Merrick's eyes; but not a lash quivered.

James gave a scream that rang through the air and silenced even the
birds. Then, shrieking like the madman he was, he bounded away through
the hedge, sending old Martha whirling into a rose-bush, and fled as
if a thousand fiends were at his heels.

John Merrick and Mr. Watson, who were not far off, aroused by the
bloodcurdling screams, ran toward Aunt Jane's garden, and saw in a
glance what had happened.

"Poor Jane," whispered the brother, bending over to tenderly close the
staring eyes, "her fate has overtaken her unawares."

"Better so," said the lawyer, gently. "She has found Peace at last."

Together they wheeled