her hands out to Mrs. Goodwin.

"You are sick, my child. We found you in the road and took you in. You
had lost your way."

"Oh! oh!" she murmured, "can I stay all night?"

"Oh, yes, stay a week or two, and get rested!"

"May I go to sleep again? Who knows me here?" and again she fell asleep.
By this time Aunt Hildy appeared on the scene, and commanded me to go
home and stay there.

"'Tain't no place for you; I've brought my herbs to stay and doctor her.
You go home and help your mother." I obeyed, of course, and when I left,
kissed the white forehead of the poor girl, and sealed it with a tear
that fell.

She murmured: "Yes, all for love,--home, pictures, mother,--all left for
love, and the baby's dead. I'm going there."

I went out into the crisp air with Louis' arm for support, and a
thousand strange thoughts whirling in my brain. "Great, indeed, must
have been the sorrow which could have driven so tender a plant from
home."

"Yes," said Louis, "God pity the man whose ruthless hand has killed the
blossoms of her loving heart. She looks like little mother, Emily."

"So she does, Louis." And we talked earnestly, forgetting everything but
this strange, sweet face. Supper was ready, and the rest were at the
table.

"What have you been up to?" said Ben, "you look like two tombstones." I
related briefly the history, and concluded by saying:

"She looks as frail as a flower." To which Mr. Benton added:

"Doubtless her frailty, Miss Minot, is the cause of her present
suffering."

"Poor lamb," said Clara, "how thankful we should feel that Matthias
found her."

"Yes," said Louis, "and if he only could have thought to have carried
her into Mr. Goodwin's, and then come over after us, she would not have
so hard a struggle for life."

"Do you think she can live?" said Mr. Benton.

"Oh, yes!" said Louis, "the blood has started, and with Aunt Hildy by
her bedside she will be, by to-morrow, very comfortable. I think she had
not been there long when we found her."

"Perhaps she will not thank you for bringing her back to life, however."

"Perhaps not," said Louis, "still it seems a sacred duty, and in my
opinion, not finished with her mere return to life. She looks very
beautiful--looks like little mother," turning in admiration to Clara,
whose eyes reflected the love she held in her heart for him.

Father and mother were silent, but after supper mother said they would
ride over and see if anything was necessa