aying beside Flora's gorgeous bed, felt that this was
the hundredth sheep who had wandered and was found. The other ninety and
nine were safely in the fold. He had looked after the spiritual
condition of the county for fifty years. There had been much to
discourage him, but in the main if they strayed they came back.

He prayed with fervor, the fine old prayers of his church.

"Look down from heaven, we humbly beseech thee, with the eyes of mercy
upon this child now lying upon the bed of sickness: Visit her, O Lord,
with thy salvation; deliver her in thy good appointed time from bodily
pain, and save her soul for thy mercies' sake; that, if it shall be thy
pleasure to prolong her days here on earth, she may live for thee, and
be an instrument of thy glory, by serving thee faithfully, and doing
good in her generation; or else receive her into those heavenly
habitations, where the souls of those who sleep in the Lord Jesus enjoy
perpetual rest and felicity."

Flora, lying inert and bloodless, opened her eyes. "Say it again," she
whispered. "Say it again."

II

Randy rode straight from Hamilton Hill to Huntersfield. He found Becky
in the Bird Room. She had her head tied up in a white cloth, and a big
white apron enveloped her. She was as white as the whiteness in which
she was clad, and there were purple shadows under her eyes. The windows
were open and a faint breeze stirred the curtains. The shade of the
great trees softened the light to a dim green. After the glare of
Oscar's terrace it was like coming from a blazing desert to the bottom
of the sea.

There was a wide seat under a window which looked out towards the hills.
Becky sat down on it. "Everybody is out," she said, "except Aunt
Claudia. She is taking a nap up-stairs."

"I didn't come to see everybody, Becky. I came to see you."

"I am glad you came. I can rest a bit."

"You work as hard as if you had to do it."

She leaned back against the green linen cushions of the window seat and
looked up at him. "I do have to do it. There is nobody else. Mandy is
busy, and, anyhow, Grandfather doesn't like to have the servants in
here. And neither do I---- It is almost as if the birds were alive--and
loved me."

Randy hugged his knee and meditated. "But there are lots of rich women
who wouldn't dust a room."

She made a gesture of disdain. "Oh, _that_ kind of rich people."

"What kind?"

"The kind that aren't used to their money. Who think ladies--are id