all."

"Mind your own business," said Rosamond, without even turning her head,
and had not gone more than three steps when she fell flat on her face
on the path. She tried to get up, but the effort forced from her a
scream, for she had sprained the ankle of the foot that was already
lame.

The old woman was by her side instantly.

"Where are you hurt, child?" she asked, throwing down her burden and
kneeling beside her.

"Go away," screamed Rosamond. "YOU made me fall, you bad woman!"

The woman made no reply, but began to feel her joints, and soon
discovered the sprain. Then, in spite of Rosamond's abuse, and the
violent pushes and even kicks she gave her, she took the hurt ankle in
her hands, and stroked and pressed it, gently kneading it, as it were,
with her thumbs, as if coaxing every particle of the muscles into its
right place. Nor had she done so long before Rosamond lay still. At
length she ceased, and said:--

"Now, my child, you may get up."

"I can't get up, and I'm not your child," cried Rosamond. "Go away."

Without another word the woman left her, took up her burden, and
continued her journey.

In a little while Rosamond tried to get up, and not only succeeded, but
found she could walk, and, indeed, presently discovered that her ankle
and foot also were now perfectly well.

"I wasn't much hurt after all," she said to herself, nor sent a single
grateful thought after the poor woman, whom she speedily passed once
more upon the road without even a greeting.

Late in the afternoon she came to a spot where the path divided into
two, and was taking the one she liked the look of better, when she
started at the sound of the poor woman's voice, whom she thought she
had left far behind, again calling her. She looked round, and there she
was, toiling under her load of heather as before.

"You are taking the wrong turn, child." she cried.

"How can you tell that?" said Rosamond. "You know nothing about where I
want to go."

"I know that road will take you where you won't want to go," said the
woman.

"I shall know when I get there, then," returned Rosamond, "and no
thanks to you."

She set off running. The woman took the other path, and was soon out of
sight.

By and by, Rosamond found herself in the midst of a peat-moss--a flat,
lonely, dismal, black country. She thought, however, that the road
would soon lead her across to the other side of it among the farms, and
went on without anxiety. But