at came
seeking shelter in her name. It was not what he would have chosen, but
he knew it was God that had sent the poor wandering idiot there.

He went to see Nest the next morning. As he drew near the cottage--it
was summer time, and the doors and windows were all open--he heard an
angry, passionate kind of sound that was scarcely human. That sound
prevented his approach from being heard; and standing at the threshold,
he saw poor Mary Williams pacing backward and forward in some wild mood.
Nest, cripple as she was, was walking with her, speaking low, soothing
words, till the pace was slackened, and time and breathing was given to
put her arm around the crazy woman's neck, and soothe her by this tender
caress into the quiet luxury of tears; tears which give the hot brain
relief. Then David Hughes came in. His first words, as he took off his
hat, standing on the lintel, were--"The peace of God be upon this
house." Neither he nor Nest recurred to the past; though solemn
recollections filled their minds. Before he went, all three knelt and
prayed; for, as Nest told him, some mysterious influence of peace came
over the poor half-wit's mind when she heard the holy words of prayer;
and often when she felt a paroxysm coming on, she would kneel and repeat
a homily rapidly over, as if it were a charm to scare away the Demon in
possession; sometimes, indeed, the control over herself requisite for
this effort was enough to dispel the fluttering burst. When David rose
up to go, he drew Nest to the door.

"You are not afraid, my child?" asked he.

"No," she replied. "She is often very good and quiet. When she is not, I
can bear it."

"I shall see your face on earth no more;" said he. "God bless you!" He
went on his way. Not many weeks after, David Hughes was borne to his
grave.

The doors of Nest's heart were opened--opened wide by the love she grew
to feel for crazy Mary, so helpless, so friendless, so dependent upon
her. Mary loved her back again, as a dumb animal loves its blind master.
It was happiness enough to be near her. In general she was only too glad
to do what she was bidden by Nest. But there were times when Mary was
overpowered by the glooms and fancies of her poor disordered brain.
Fearful times! No one knew how fearful. On those days, Nest warned the
little children who loved to come and play around her, that they must
not visit the house. The signal was a piece of white linen hung out of a
side window. On th