put it back, and was about to slip it into Dan's bosom so that not
even a stitch should betray her knowledge, when as she leaned towards
him, she saw that he was looking straight at her with an expression that
surprised her more than any of the strange ones she had ever seen in
that changeful face before.

'Your hand slipped down; it fell; I was putting it back,' explained Mrs
Jo, feeling like a naughty child caught in mischief.

'You saw the picture?'

'Yes.'

'And know what a fool I am?'

'Yes, Dan, and am so grieved--'

'Don't worry about me. I'm all right--glad you know, though I never
meant to tell you. Of course it is only a crazy fancy of mine, and
nothing can ever come of it. Never thought there would. Good Lord! what
could that little angel ever be to me but what she is--a sort of dream
of all that's sweet and good?'

More afflicted by the quiet resignation of his look and tone than by
the most passionate ardour, Mrs Jo could only say, with a face full of
sympathy:

'It is very hard, dear, but there is no other way to look at it. You are
wise and brave enough to see that, and to let the secret be ours alone.'

'I swear I will! not a word nor a look if I can help it. No one guesses,
and if it troubles no one, is there any harm in my keeping this, and
taking comfort in the pretty fancy that kept me sane in that cursed
place?'

Dan's face was eager now, and he hid away the little worn case as if
defying any hand to take it from him. Anxious to know everything before
giving counsel or comfort, Mrs Jo said quietly:

'Keep it, and tell me all about the "fancy". Since I have stumbled on
your secret, let me know how it came, and how I can help to make it
lighter to bear.'

'You'll laugh; but I don't mind. You always did find out our secrets and
give us a lift. Well, I never cared much for books, you know; but down
yonder when the devil tormented me I had to do something or go stark
mad, so I read both the books you gave me. One was beyond me, till that
good old man showed me how to read it; but the other, this one, was a
comfort, I tell you. It amused me, and was as pretty as poetry. I liked
'em all, and most wore out Sintram. See how used up he is! Then I came
to this, and it sort of fitted that other happy part of my life, last
summer--here.'

Dan stopped a moment as the words lingered on his lips; then, with a
long breath, went on, as if it was hard to lay bare the foolish little
romance he had wov