ment in his
letter, that she had not proved as good a friend as Grace Bernard,
touched her as nothing else had ever done. She admitted the truth of his
assertion, and felt truly sorry that she had not been more loyal to
him.

"I shall regret my present intimacy with one who has no honor," she
mused. "He must have meant Matthew, and I wonder if he referred to him
in saying, 'when I was led to your house on that wretched night by a
certain person.'" This thought once having taken shape grew upon her.

Nellie studied over Fred's letter, reading it again and again. "You know
he is my enemy." She did not notice this before, but now it recalls the
night of the party. "Yes, Fred, I do know it," she said to herself
almost audibly, "but I had almost forgotten the spite he showed you."

This thought placed Matthew under suspicion, and went far toward helping
Fred's cause, though he was now so thoroughly under a cloud.

Nellie found herself repeating over this sentence: "Grace Bernard stood
by me while you did not." She could hardly drive it from her thoughts,
but why it clung so to her she did not suspect. That evening she wrote
an answer to Fred's letter, and sealed it ready to mail in the morning.

The night was cloudy and dark. A cold November wind from the northeast
swept over the little village--so icy and damp that none cared to
venture out.

There was no trade for the merchants, and they closed their stores
early and hurried shivering to their homes. By ten o'clock not a light
was anywhere to be seen.

All had retired, and nearly all had entered into happy dreamland when
they were suddenly awakened by the shrill cry of "Fire! fire! fire!"

Soon the words were taken up by others and yet others till every person
in the village was aroused and startled by the sound.

XVI.

A fire in a country village is a great event. There is but one other
attraction that approaches it in importance, and that is the annual
circus.

Both bring out the entire village, but the fire draws the better of the
two. It is a free show, while the circus is not, and here it has an
immense advantage over the latter--an advantage that can hardly be
overcome by the clowns and menagerie. It gives the men, the boys too, a
chance to be brave--to do daring deeds and a large number of foolish
ones. Then there is the mystery of how it caught, and whether it was the
work of an incendiary or not. Why, a good sized fire in a village will
often