ertone, while Nan,
leaning on her elbow, and peering after them, maintained a watchful,
listening attitude. Gertrude was informed that Mrs. Miller was a niece
of Ben Grant's, but had seen nothing of him or his wife for years,
until, a few days previous. Nan had come there in a state of the
greatest destitution, and threatened with the fever under which she was
now suffering. "I could not refuse her a shelter," said Mrs. Miller;
"but, as you see, I have no accommodation for her; and it's not only bad
for me to have her sick here in the kitchen, but, what with the noise of
the children, and all the other discomforts, I'm afraid the poor old
thing will die."

"Have you a room that you could spare above-stairs?" asked Gertrude.

"Why, there's our Jane," answered Mrs. Miller; "she's a good-hearted
girl as ever lived; she said, right off, she'd give up her room to poor
Aunt Nancy, and she'd sleep in with the other children. I don't feel,
though, as if we could afford to keep another fire agoing, and so I
thought we'd put a bed here for a day or two, and just see how she got
along. But she's looked pretty bad to-day; and now, I'm thinking from
her actions that she's considerable out of her head."

"She ought to be kept quiet," said Gertrude; "and, if you will have a
fire in Jane's room at my expense, and do what you can to make her
comfortable, I'll send a physician here to see her." Mrs. Miller was
beginning to express the warmest gratitude, but Gertrude interrupted her
with saying, "Don't thank me, Mrs. Miller; Nancy is not a stranger to
me; I have known her before, and, perhaps, feel more interested in her
than you do yourself."

Mrs. Miller looked surprised; but Gertrude could not stop to enter into
a further explanation. Anxious to speak to Nan, and assure her of her
friendly intentions, she went up to the side of the bed, in spite of the
wild and glaring eyes which were fixed steadily upon her. "Nan," said
she, "do you know me?"

"Yes! yes!" replied Nan, in a half-whisper, speaking quickly, and
catching her breath; "what have you come for?"

"To do you good, I hope."

But Nan still looked incredulous, and in the same undertone, and with
the same nervous accent, inquired, "Have you seen Gerty? Where is she?"

"She is well," answered Gertrude, astonished at the question, for she
had supposed herself recognised.

"What did she say about me?"

"She says that she forgives and pities you, and is in hopes to do
som