s touching appeal for sympathy,
she replied, as she rocked to and fro, "I wish you _had_ died, 'Leny,
years and years ago."

'Twas the last drop in the brimming bucket, and with the wailing cry,
"God help me now--no one else can," the heart-broken girl fell
fainting to the floor, while in silent agony Mrs. Nichols hung over
her, shouting for help.

Both Mrs. Livingstone and Carrie refused to come, but at the first
call Aunt Milly hastened to the room. "Poor sheared lamb," said she,
gathering back the thick, clustering curls which shaded 'Lena's
marble face, "she's innocent as the new-born baby."

"Oh, if I could think so," said grandma; but she could not, and when
the soft brown eyes again unclosed, and eagerly sought hers, they
read distrust and doubt, and motioning her grandmother away, 'Lena
said she would rather be alone.

Many and bitter were the thoughts which crowded upon her as she lay
there watching the daylight fade from the distant hills, and musing
of the stern realities around her. Gradually her thoughts assumed a
definite purpose; she would go away from a place where she was never
wanted, and where she now no longer wished to stay. Mr. Everett had
promised to be her friend, and to him she would go. At different
intervals her uncle and cousin had given her money to the amount of
twenty dollars, which was still in her possession, and which she knew
would take her far on her road.

With 'Lena to resolve was to do, and that night, when sure her
grandmother was asleep, she arose and hurriedly made the needful
preparations for her flight. Unlike most aged people, Mrs. Nichols
slept soundly, and 'Lena had no fears of waking her. Very stealthily
she moved around the room, placing in a satchel, which she could
carry upon her arm, the few things she would need. Then, sitting
down by the table, she wrote:

"DEAR GRANDMA: When you read this I shall be gone, for I cannot
longer stay where all look upon me as a wretched, guilty thing. I am
innocent, grandma, as innocent as my angel mother when they dared to
slander her, but you do not believe it, and that is the hardest of
all. I could have borne the rest, but when you, too, doubted me, it
broke my heart, and now I am going away. Nobody will care--nobody
will miss me but you.

"And now dear, dear grandma, it costs me more pain to write than it
will you to read

"'LENA'S LAST GOOD-BYE"

All was at length ready, and then bending gently over