g weak after that exertion of trying to raise
herself. She was quite restored now, and her first thoughts were of
grief, that she had for a moment, and under any discouragement, failed
to trust fully the Lord's promises. She trusted them now. Let her father
do what he would, let things look as dark as they might, Nettie felt
sure that "the rewarder of them that diligently seek him" had a blessing
in store for her. Bible words, sweet and long loved and rested on, came
to her mind, and Nettie rested on them with perfect rest. "For he hath
not despised nor abhorred the affliction of the afflicted; neither hath
he hid his face from him; but when he cried unto him, _he heard_." "Our
heart shall rejoice in him, _because we have trusted in his holy name_."
Prayer for forgiveness, and a thanksgiving of great peace, filled
Nettie's heart all the while the Frenchwoman was gone.

Meanwhile Mme. Auguste had been looking into the street, and seeing
nobody out in the wet snow, she rushed back to Nettie. Nettie was like
herself now, only very pale.

"I must have cut my lip somehow," she said; "there's blood on my
handkerchief. How did I come in here?"

"Blood!" said the Frenchwoman,--"where did you cut yourself, Nettie? Let
me look!"

Which she did, with a face so anxious and eager that Nettie smiled at
her. Her own brow was as quiet and placid as ever it was.

"How did I get in here, Mrs. August?"

The Frenchwoman, however, did not answer her. Instead of which she went
to her cupboard and got a cup and spoon, and then from a little saucepan
on the stove dipped out some riz-au-gras again.

"What did you have for dinner, Nettie? you did not tell me."

"Not much--I wasn't hungry," said Nettie. "O, I must get up and go home
to mother."

"You shall eat something first," said her friend; and she raised
Nettie's head upon another pillow, and began to feed her with the spoon.
"It is good for you. You must take it. Where is your father? Don't talk,
but tell me. I will do everything right."

"He is at work on Mr. Jackson's new house."

"Is he there to-day?"

"Yes."

Mme. Auguste gave her all the "broth" in the cup, then bade her keep
still, and went to the shop window. It was time for the men to be
quitting work, she knew; she watched for the carpenters to come. If they
were not gone by already!--how should she know? Even as she thought
this, a sound of rude steps and men's voices came from down the road;
and the Frenchwoman w