few salt tears from falling; and for a moment
Nettie's faith trembled. Feeling weak, and broken, and miserable, the
thought came coldly across her mind, _would_ the Lord not hear her,
after all? It was but a moment of faith-trembling, but it made her
sick. There was more to do that; the push and fall over the timbers had
jarred her more than she knew at the moment. Nettie walked slowly back
upon her road till she neared the shop of Mme. Auguste; then she felt
herself growing very ill, and just reached the Frenchwoman's door to
faint away on her steps.

She did not remain there two seconds. Mme. Auguste had seen her go by an
hour before, and now sat at her window looking out to amuse herself, but
with a special intent to see and waylay that pale child on her repassing
the house. She saw the little black hood reappear, and started to open
the door, just in time to see Nettie fall down at her threshold. As
instantly two willing arms were put under her, and lifted up the child
and bore her into the house. Then Madame took off her hood, touched her
lips with brandy and her brow with cologne water, and chafed her hands.
She had lain Nettie on the floor of the inner room and put a pillow
under her head; the strength which had brought her so far having failed
there, and proved unequal to lift her again and put her on the bed.
Nettie presently came to, opened her eyes, and looked at her nurse.

"Why, my Nettie," said the little woman, "what is this, my child? what
is the matter with you?"

"I don't know," said Nettie, scarce over her breath.

"Do you feel better now, _mon enfant_?"

Nettie did not, and did not speak. Mme. Auguste mixed a spoonful of
brandy and water and made her take it. That revived her a little.

"I must get up and go home," were the first words she said.

"You will lie still there, till I get some person to lift you on the
bed," said the Frenchwoman, decidedly. "I have not more strength than a
fly. What ails you, Nettie?"

"I don't know."

"Take one spoonful more. What did you have for dinner to-day?"

"I don't know. But I must go home!" said Nettie, trying to raise
herself. "Mother will want me--she'll want me."

"You will lie still, like a good child," said her friend, gently putting
her back on her pillow;--"and I will find some person to carry you
home--or some person what will bring your mother here. I will go see if
I can find some one now. You lie still, Nettie."

Nettie lay still, feelin