day School
lessons at Uncle Bisco's were in order. He closed with a remark
which, read between the lines, she saw was intended to warn and
prepare her for something unexpected, the greatest good news, as he
said, of her life. Then he quoted:

"_And Moses stretched forth his hand over the sea, and the sea
returned to his strength when the morning appeared._"

There was but one great good news that Alice Westmore cared for, and,
strange to say, all the week she had been thinking of it. It came
about involuntarily, as she compared men with one another.

It came as the tide comes back to the ocean, as the stars come with
the night. She tried to smother it, but it would not be smothered. At
last she resigned herself to the wretchedness of it--as one when,
despairing of throwing off a mood, gives way to it and lets it eat
its own heart out.

She could scarcely wait until night. Her heart beat at intervals, in
agitated fierceness, and flushes of red went through her cheek all
the afternoon, at the thought in her heart that at times choked her.

Then came the kindly old man himself, his face radiant with a look
she had not seen on a face for many weeks. After the week she had
been through, this itself was a comfort. She met him with feigned
calmness and a little laugh.

"You promised to tell me where you had been, Bishop, all these
weeks. It must have made you very, very happy."

"I'll tell you down at the cabin, if you'll dress yo' very pretties'.
There's friends of yo's down there you ain't seen in a long
time--that's mighty anxious to see you."

"Oh, I do indeed feel ashamed of myself for having neglected the old
servants so long; but you cannot know what has been on my mind. Yes,
I will go with you directly."

The old man looked at her admiringly when she was ready to go--at the
dainty gown of white, the splendid hair of dark auburn crowning her
head, the big wistful eyes, the refined face. Upon him had devolved
the duty of preparing Alice Westmore for what she would see in the
cabin, and never did he enter more fully into the sacredness of such
an occasion.

And now, when she was ready and stood before him in all her superb
womanhood, a basket of dainties on her arm for the old servants, he
spoke very solemnly as he handed her an ambrotype set in a large gold
breast-pin.

"You'll need this to set you off--around yo' neck."

At sight of it all the color left her cheeks.

"Why, it is mine--I gave it to--to-