t. He's going to wave his wand over Blossom. He waved it over
another little broken girl, _and she walked_. I saw her. _She_ said,
'See me!'--I heard her. That's what the money is going to do, Jemmy."

"Gee!" breathed Jemmy softly. It was his way of making poetry.

"And you see, I don't dare to wait--I'm afraid something might happen
to that doctor."

"O' course!--you go down there all flyin' an' see that woman, Jude."

And that afternoon Judith went. It was to Mrs. Ben she went first;
she felt acquainted with Mrs. Ben.

"Can I see--I'd like to see that mother whose little girl can walk,"
Judith said eagerly.

"Land!" ejaculated Mrs. Ben.

"I mean," explained Judith, smiling, "whose little girl was lame and
a doctor made her walk by waving his wa--I mean by--by curing her. I
heard her telling another mother. I'd like to see--do you suppose I
could see that lady?"

"I guess I know who you mean--there ain't been but one little girl
here lately," Mrs. Ben said. "But there ain't any now. They've gone
away."

Chapter V.

Judith went straight to Uncle Jem, sobbing all the way
unconsciously; she was not conscious of anything but what Mrs. Ben
had said.

"They've gone away!--they've gone away!--they've gone away!" It
reiterated itself to her in dull monotony, keeping slow time with the
throbbing pain of her disappointment.

Uncle Jem heard her coming--in some surprise, she came so fast. What
was the child hurrying like that for? What had happened?

"I hear ye, child!" he called cheerily. The time-worn little
pleasantry did him service as usual. "I'm layin' low for ye!"

She crossed the outer threshold and the little box of a kitchen
without slackening her excited pace, and appeared in the old man's
doorway, breathless and flushed.

"It's too late!" she gasped, briefly. Then, because she needed
comforting and Uncle Jem was her comforter of old, her head went down
on the patchwork quilt that covered his twisted old frame, and she
cried like a grief-struck little child.

"There, there, deary!" he crooned, his twisted fingers traveling
across her hair, "jest you lay there an' cry it all out--don't ye
hurry any. When ye get all done an' good an' ready, tell Uncle Jem
what it's all about. But take your time, little un--take your time."

The child was worn out in every thread of the over-strained young
body. The excitement and nervous rack of the last twenty-four hours
was having sway now, and would not