ssed her, wiped away her
tears, and, taking her on her knee, she made the little one's eyes once
more beam forth with smiles."

* * * * *

"There," said Henry, "just as papa said--he knew it would be Meeta."

"Oh, Henry!" said Mrs. Fairchild, smiling, "how nicely you have kept
papa's secret! You see you would not have done so well as little Margot
did with Heister Kamp."

Henry made no answer, and Emily went on.

* * * * *

"Jacques had made up his mind never to allude to the affair of the
treasure by a single word, so he kept his meeting with Heister to
himself; and when you have read a little more, you will say how unlucky
it was that he did so, or that Meeta was not present when Margot had
been with her grandmother; but when you have read to the end, you will
say it was all right as it was.

"In the evening of the next day, Ella, with the help of Monique and
Meeta, finished the getting up of a portion of the fine linen of Madame
Eversil. It was therefore placed neatly in a basket covered with a
white cloth, and sprinkled over with the fairest and choicest of
flowers which could be gathered; and then Ella, being neatly dressed,
raised it on her head, and set off with it to the village.

"I wish we had a picture of Ella, just as she was that evening, going
gaily down the hill with the basket so nicely balanced on her head,
that she hardly ever put her hand to steady it, though she went
skipping down the hill like the harts which in former times had given
their name to the place.

"She was dressed much as her little sister had been the evening before,
only that she wore a linen kerchief and a linen cap, and her dark hair
was simply braided. She loved to go to the pastor's, and she loved to
be in motion; so she was very happy.

"Her light basket travelled safely on her head, and nothing happened to
disarrange it, excepting that one end of a long wreath of scarlet roses
escaped from the inner part of the basket, and hung down from thence
by the side of the fair cheeks of the young girl.

"When Ella entered the little street, she saw no one till she came
opposite the _Lion d'Or_, or _Golden Lion_, the house of Madame Kamp,
and there she saw Heister, seated in the porch, knitting herself a
petticoat of dyed wool in long stripes of various colours, with needles
longer than her arm.

"Heister liked knitting--it is the most convenient work for one who