e for me, nor no kindness from anybody,
so I haven't got to thank anybody for anything--that's one thing!"
the poor foolish woman kept repeating, as though, instead of being
ashamed of it, it was something to be proud of.

"As we sow, we reap," thought Aunt Martha; the truth of the words had
come home to her many times, since she had taken in the two
friendless waifs. Dick and Huldah would have loved this woman too,
if she had allowed them to. She grew a little impatient of the long
complainings. "We don't get love back, if we don't give any," she
said at last.

"Who'd I got? Who'd want me to love them?" she demanded, peevishly.

"Why, the child, for one, and Dick, and that poor old horse, not to
speak of your husband."

Emma Smith was silent. It had never before entered her head that to
be loved one must love, that the way to win it is to think of others
first, and self last. She ceased her complaining, as she realised
for the first time that others besides herself had something to
complain of. She had always been one of those who are so full of
pity for themselves that they never have time to feel pity for
others.

By the time the meal was finished Huldah's mind was made up.
She must talk to Miss Rose about things. The matter seemed so
puzzling, so complicated, she could not sort out the right and the
wrong of it at all. It was all beyond her. Aunt Martha fell in with
the plan at once.

"Mrs. Smith can stay here with me till you come back," she said,
hospitably; and the visitor agreed eagerly.

The storm was over by that time, but the air was oppressive, and the
heat great. Huldah walked along very soberly, for there was a sense
of depression weighing on her, a foreboding that an end was coming to
her happy, peaceful life. There was always trouble when any part of
her old life cropped up again.

She was ashamed, too, to be troubling Miss Rose again about her
affairs; she felt she had done little but bring trouble to them all
ever since she had walked into their lives that summer's night a year
ago. She who longed to bring them nothing but pleasure!

Just then she came to the top of the little hill up which Rob had
crawled that winter morning, and once again the words Miss Rose had
sung came back to her, as though they still lingered on the air
there,

"Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene,--one step enough for me."

Huldah sang them aloud as she descended the s