le marble slab, by
the side of one of the knolls. The last golden shafts of sunlight were
stealing over its memorial words, and the young eyes read in silence:--

IN MEMORY OF

GEORDIE BAXTER,

Who went to the Fold above on the
7th of August, 185--.

"The Lord is my Shepherd;
I shall not want."

Presently, the silent group heard footsteps behind, and when Grace
glanced round she saw a woman, with two little boys by her side, coming
along the little path towards the headstone. She stopped suddenly when
she saw the strangers, evidently surprised by the unusual presence of
visitors in that unfrequented spot, and, turning down another path, went
away in the opposite direction. "Who is that, Jean?" asked Mrs. Foster;
"surely I have seen the face before."

"Dear heart, do ye not know her? It's Elsie Gray. We dinna think, John
and me, that her bonnie face is much changed; but then we see it every
day," Jean replied, looking fondly after the retreating figure.

"Ah, is it really Elsie? I was just going to ask about her, Jean. But
who are those children with her? I thought you told me in one of your
letters that she lived quite alone?" asked Grace, stooping down to pluck
a bluebell from Geordie's grave, instead of hurrying after this old
friend, as the little Grace expected her mother to do.

Then the little matron went on to narrate how Elsie's home was still the
forester's pretty cottage, though her father and mother were both dead.
She had never been married, which Jean remarked was a great pity, and
hinted that a good many other people were of her opinion. But how the
parish of Kirklands could ever have got on without her if she had gone
away, or what life would be if she had not Elsie to go to in every joy
and sorrow, Jean could not imagine, as she said she frequently remarked
to "her John." Nobody's hands seemed to be fuller of helpful work, and
nobody did it more cheerily, than Elsie Gray.

Then Jean explained that the two little boys were orphans whom she had
taken to her comfortable home; and "it wasn't the first pair o' laddies
she had made good for something," Jean added, admiringly.

"Oh, mamma, don't you want to speak to her? She has such a nice,
beautiful face. Do let me run after her, and ask her to stop for a
minute," said little Grace, eagerly.

Mrs. Foster glanced musingly across the knolls at Elsie's slender
figure, as she sauntered peacefully home with her charge, and then she
sai