ut Locks," and he twined one of
Alice's curls around his finger. "It's weak for men to cry, but I have
cried many a night for her, when the clouds were crying, too, and I
heard against my window the rain which I knew was falling upon her
little grave."

He was growing rather excited, and thinking he had talked too much,
Alice was trying to quiet him, when the door opened softly and Adah
herself came in. Bowing politely to Alice she advanced to Hugh's
bedside, and bending over him spoke his name. He knew her, and turning
to Alice said: "This is Adah; you will like each other; you are much
alike."

For an instant the two young girls gazed at each other as if trying to
account for the familiar look each saw in the other's face. Adah was the
first to remember, and when at last Hugh was asleep she unclasped from
her neck the slender chain she had worn so long, and passing the locket
to Alice, asked if she ever saw it before.

"Yes, oh, yes, it's I, it's mine, though not a very natural one. I never
knew where I lost it. Where did you find it?" and opening the other side
Alice looked to see if the lock of hair was safe.

Adah explained how it came into her possession, asking if Alice
remembered the circumstances.

"Yes, and I thought of you so often, never dreaming that we should meet
here as we have. You were so sick then, and I pitied you so much. Your
husband was gone, you said. Was it long ere he came back?"

"He never came back," and the great brown eyes filled with tears.

"Never came? Do you think him dead?"

"No, no! oh, no! He's--Oh, Miss Johnson, I'll tell you some time. Nobody
here knows but Hugh how I was deceived, but I'll tell you. I can trust
you," and Adah involuntarily laid her head in Alice's lap, sobbing
bitterly.

In the hall without there was a shuffling step which Adah knew was
Sam's, and remembering the conversation once held with him concerning
that golden locket, whose original Sam was positive he had seen, Alice
waited curious for his entrance. With hobbling steps the old man came
in, scarcely noticing either of them, so intent was he upon the figure
lying so still and helpless before him.

"Massah Hugh, my poor, dear Massah Hugh," he cried, bending over his
young master. "I wish 'twas Sam had all de pain an' all de aches you
feels. I'd b'ar it willingly, massah, I would. Dear massah, kin you hear
Sam talkin' to you?"

Sam had turned away from Hugh, and with his usual politeness was abou