re I couldn't get sight or sound of that horrid Snipe. Can't I go
with you, Miss Ercildoune?"

"I have no counter behind which to station you," said Francesca,
smiling.

"No, I know,--of course; but"--looking at the daintily arrayed
figure--"you have plenty of elegant things to make, and I can do pretty
much anything with my needle, if you'd like to trust me with some work.
And then--I'm ashamed to ask so much of you, but a few words from you to
your friends, I'm sure, would send me all that I could do, and more."

"You think so?" Miss Ercildoune inquired, with a curious intonation to
her voice, and the strangest expression darkening her face. "Very well,
it shall be tried."

Sallie was nonplussed by the tone and look, but she comprehended the
closing words fully and with delight. "You will take me with you," she
cried. "O, how good, how kind you are! how shall I ever be able to thank
you?"

"Don't thank me at all," said Miss Ercildoune, "at least not now. Wait
till I have done something to deserve your gratitude."

But Sallie was not to be silenced in any such fashion, and said her say
with warmth and meaning; then, after some further talk about time and
plans, went away carrying a bit of work which Miss Ercildoune had found,
or made, for her, and for which she had paid in advance.

"God bless her!" thought Sallie; "how nice and how thoughtful she is!
Most ladies, if they'd done anything for me, would have given me some
money and made a beggar of me, and I should have felt as mean as
dish-water. But now"--she patted her little bundle and walked down the
street, elated and happy.

Francesca watched her out of the door with eyes that presently filled
with tears. "Poor girl!" she whispered; "poor Sallie! her lover has gone
to the wars with a shadow between them. Ah, that must not be; I must try
to bring them together again, if he loves her dearly and truly. He might
die,"--she shuddered at that,--"die, as other men die, in the heat and
flame of battle. My God! my God! how shall I bear it? Dead! and without
a word! Gone, and he will never know how well I love him! O Willie,
Willie! my life, my love, my darling, come back, come back to me."

Vain cry!--he cannot hear. Vain lifting of an agonized face, beautiful
in its agony!--he cannot see. Vain stretching forth of longing hands and
empty arms!--he is not there to take them to his embrace. Carry thy
burden as others have carried it before thee, and learn what mult