be set at
rest.

At the sound of voices Mary Harmer came softly downstairs from the
sick man's side, and divining in a moment who the stranger was,
took her into a warm, motherly embrace, and thanked her again and
again for coming so promptly.

"Nay, it is I must thank thee for letting me come," answered
Gertrude between smiles and tears. "And now, may I not go to him? I
would not lose a moment. I am hungry for the sight of his living
face. Prithee, let me go!"

"So thou shalt, my child, in all good speed; but just at this
moment he sleeps, and thou must refresh thyself after thy long, hot
walk, that thou mayest be better able to tend him. I will not keep
thee from him, be sure, when the time comes that thou mayest go to
him."

Joseph at that moment came up with the barrow, and Gertrude found
that it was pleasant and refreshing to let Mary Harmer bathe her
face and hands and array her in her own garments. And then she sat
down to a pleasant meal of fresh country provisions, which tasted
so different from anything she had eaten these many long weeks.

The boys, who as a precautionary measure were keeping away from the
house itself until it should be quite certain that their brother
was free from infection, took their meal on the grass plot outside,
and enjoyed it mightily.

The whole scene was so different from anything upon which
Gertrude's eyes had rested for long, that tears would rise unbidden
in them, though they were tears of happiness and gratitude. The dog
Fido took to her at once, and showed her many intelligent
attentions, and was so useful altogether in fetching and carrying
that his cleverness and docility were a constant source of
amusement and wonder to all, and gave endless delight to the boys,
who spent all their spare time in training him.

Then just when the afternoon shadows were beginning to lengthen,
and the light to grow golden with the mellow September glow,
Gertrude was softly summoned to the pleasant upper chamber, which
smelt sweetly of lavender, rose leaves, and wild thyme, where
beside the open casement lay Reuben, in a snow-white bed, his face
sadly wasted and white, and his eyes closed as if in the lassitude
of utter weakness.

Mary gave Gertrude a smile, and motioned her to go up to him, which
she did very softly and with a beating heart. He did not appear to
note her footfall; but when she stood beside him, and gently spoke
his name, his eyes flashed open in a moment, and fix