the meadow, where a
little path showed that he was not the first to find a direct way from
the parsonage to the widow's cottage.

"Well, wife? well, Anna?" said the pastor, and looked inquiringly into
the face of his best-beloved, as he generally did when he was in doubt
or difficulty. It was a face that any one might have been pleased to
look upon. It had in it the bright cheeriness of a child, and at the
same time dignity and a wisdom in this world's matters, as well as "the
wisdom that cometh from above." He received no answer, and so said
himself: "She was in church yesterday when you were at little Fia's
death-bed. I could hardly help thinking of you and the child when I was
in the midst of my sermon. The miller told me afterwards that 'miss' and
the little girl were with Possessionaten something, a traveller who had
stopped at the inn by the cross-road."

There was a sudden end put to the conversation by a loud cry from the
baby, which swept all other expressions from the face of the pastor's
wife, where at once mother love was triumphant.

CHAPTER III.

A STRANGE MEETING.

Across meadows, over ditches, and at last up rather a steep ascent wound
the way to Widow Erikson's cottage. The path had grown rough and narrow,
but the barefooted boy went over it as lightly and as unharmed as if he
had been a happy bird. The boots, however, of his companion seemed a
tight fit for climbing, and at last a straggling bramble that crossed
the way turned up two little black points, like doors, to show the way
to the untanned leather behind the bright polish. The traveller stopped,
and smoothed them down in vain with her finger; the mischief was done.
"This is an ugly, disagreeable path," she exclaimed, "and a long one
too."

"Maybe," said the boy; "but summer and winter Widow Erikson comes down
here all alone. I don't believe she'd miss the service if you'd give
her a bucket of red apples." The boy had evidently named his ultimatum
in the way of temptation. "There's the cottage," he added, pointing to a
small, reddish-brown building far up the ascent.

"Give me the flower," said the stranger; "I will tell her who sent it.
You go back now. You've shown me the way; I don't need you any longer.
Thanks! Thank your mother too. Here!" and she laid in the boy's hand a
bit of silver that made his face shine. He bowed in his best style,
which did not disturb his backbone, but brought his chin down till it
touched his bre