that Janice Day had ever received!
Such a letter was it that she treasures it yet and will always do so.
It was one that she could proudly show to anybody she chose, without
betraying that intimacy that the ordinary love letter is supposed to
contain.

News had come regularly to Hopewell Drugg from the teachers at the
school where little Lottie had taken up her abode. Because the child
was naturally so bright, and because of the fact that before she lost
her eyesight she had learned the alphabet and some primary studies, and
had not forgotten it all, Lottie was making marvelous progress the
teachers declared.

A much-bethumbed envelope, addressed in crooked "printed" characters to
"Mis Janis Day, Pokton," enclosed in a teacher's letter to the
storekeeper, was the cover of Janice's love letter. Inside, the child
said:

"Dear Janis, jus' to think, I can see reel good, and my techur what I
luv says maybe I will heer reel good bymeby.

"Deer Janis, I no I cante spel good yet, and my ritin aint strate on
the paper. But I want you shud be the firs to get leter from me I luv
yu so.

"Deer Janis, you got me the muney for the docker. And he was soo good
himself, he never hardly hurt me a tall.

"Deer Janis, I luv yu mos of all, cos if yu hadn ben yu I wudn never
seen no moar. An it was so dark all times. Thats wy I feld down
cellar. An now I am goin to heer they say.

"Deer Janis, see if my echo is thar. Yu no my echo--that is the way
techur says to spell it. If my echo is waitn tell it I am comin' to
heer it again. And I luv you lots and lots, deer Janis. I will show
you how much when I com home to father and Pokton. no moar at prasens,
from your little Lottie."

Janice read the pitiful little scrawl through the first time on the
store porch. Then, tear-blinded, she started down the hill toward the
old wharf at the inlet where she had first seen Hopewell Drugg's
unfortunate child.

She was halfway down the hill before she heard a quick step behind her
and knew, without turning, that it was Nelson Haley.

CHAPTER XXX

WHAT THE ECHO MIGHT HAVE HEARD

"What's your hurry, Janice?" demanded the young teacher, coming to her
side, smiling. Then he saw her wet lashes and exclaimed: "My dear
girl! you are crying?"

"Not--not now," said Janice, shaking her head and her voice catching a
little as she spoke.

"Tell me what is the matter?" begged Nelson. "Who's hurt you?"

"They're not those so