n her
right, which she knows. It is the home of that outlawed woman where
Madame Arles had died. Here at least she will be met with sympathy, even
if the truth were wholly known; and yet perhaps last of all places would
she have it known there. She taps at the door; she has wandered out of
her way, and asks for a moment's rest. The little boy of the house, when
he has made out the visitor by a few furtive peeps from behind the
mother's chair, comes to her fawningly and familiarly; and as Adele
looks into his bright, fearless eyes, a new courage seems to possess
her. God's children, all of us; and He careth even for the sparrows. She
will conquer her despairing weakness; she will accept her cross and bear
it resolutely. By slow degrees she is won over by the frolicsome humor
of the curly-pated boy, who never once quits her side, into cheerful
prattle with him. And when at last, fairly rested, she would set off on
her return, the lone woman says she will see her safely as far as the
village street; the boy, too, insists doggedly upon attending them; and
so, with her hand tightly clasped in the hand of the lad, Adele makes
her way back into the town. Along the street she passes, even under the
windows of the parsonage, with her hand still locked in that of the
outlawed boy; and she wonders if in broad day the same courage would be
meted to her? They only part when within sight of the broad glow of
light from the Elderkin windows; and here Adele, taking out her purse,
counts out the half of her money and places it in the hands of the boy.

"We will share and share alike, Willie," said she, "But never tell who
gave you this."

"But, Miss Maverick, it's too much," said the woman.

"No, it's not," said the boy, clutching it eagerly.

With a parting good-night, Adele darted within the gate, and opened
softly the door, determined to meet courageously whatever rebuffs might
be in store for her.

LV.

Rose has detailed the story of the occurrence, with the innocent
curiosity of girlhood, to the Squire and Mrs. Elderkin (Phil being just
now away). The Squire, as he hears it, has passed a significant look
across to Mrs. Elderkin.

"It's very queer, isn't it?" asked Rose.

"Very," said the Squire, who had for some time cherished suspicions of
certain awkward relations existing between Maverick and the mother of
Adele, but never so decided as this story would seem to warrant. "And
what said Adele?" continued he.

"It dis