ttle girl of three, in her house. She said she
had found the child, in ragged gypsy garments, fainting in a field. She
took her into her house, and on undressing her, found that she was no
true gypsy, but that her face and hands and arms had been dyed; she said
the little one had been treated in a similar manner. Jane's suspicions
and mine were instantly roused, and we went back with the woman to
Oakley, and found, as we had anticipated, that the children were little
Nan and Annie. The sad thing is that Annie is in high fever, and knows no
one. We waited there until the doctor arrived, who spoke very, very
seriously of her case. Little Nan is well, and asked for you."

With these last words Miss Agnes Bruce softly left the room closing the
door after her.

"Now, Susan," said Hester, without an instant's pause; "come, let us tell
Mr. Everard of our wickedness. Oh, sir," she added, raising her eyes to
the clergyman's face, "if Annie dies I shall go mad. Oh, I cannot, cannot
bear life if Annie dies!"

"Tell me what is wrong, my poor child," said Mr. Everard. He laid his
hand on her shoulder, and gradually and skillfully drew from the agitated
and miserable girl the story of her sin, of her cowardice, and of her
deep, though until now unavailing repentance. How from the first she had
hated and disliked Annie; how unjustly she had felt toward her; how she
had longed and hoped Annie was guilty; and how, when at last the clue was
put into her hands to prove Annie's absolute innocence, she had
determined not to use it.

"From the day Nan was lost," continued Hester, "it has been all agony and
all repentance; but, oh, I was too proud to tell! I was too proud to
humble myself to the very dust!"

"But not now," said the clergyman, very gently.

"No, no; not now. I care for nothing now in all the world except that
Annie may live."

"You don't mind the fact that Mrs. Willis and all your schoolfellows must
know of this, and must--must judge you accordingly?"

"They can't think worse of me than I think of myself. I only want Annie
to live."

"No, Hester," answered Mr. Everard, "you want more than that--you want
far more than that. It may be that God will take Annie Forest away. We
cannot tell. With Him alone are the issues of life or death. What you
really want, my child, is the forgiveness of the little girl you have
wronged, and the forgiveness of your Father in heaven."

Hester began to sob wildly.

"If--if she dies--