ter Van Zwanenburg, who joined
himself to the little party. But his brow darkened when he learned the
purport of the young traveller's journey, and he spoke no more for some
time, for he was a misanthrope, and, consequently, took small share in
the hopes and pleasures of others. Soon after, however, as they were
passing a forge, young Paul stopped and clapped his hands with delight
at the sight of the ruddy light cast on the faces of the workmen.

"Canst thou sketch this scene?" asked Van Zwanenburg. Paul took a
pencil, and in a few moments traced a sketch, imperfect, no doubt, but
one in which the principal effects of light and shade especially were
accurately produced.

"Young girl," said the painter, "you need go no further. I am Van
Zwanenburg, and I admit your brother from this minute to my studio."

Further conversation ensued, and Van Zwanenburg soon learned the whole
sorrowful tale, and also the courage and devotedness of this young
foster-mother. He dismissed her with a blessing, misanthrope even as he
was, and then carried Paul to his studio, lighter at heart for having
done a kind action.

Sorrowful, and yet with a glad heart, did Louise part from little Paul,
and then turn homewards. Little did she dream of the great sorrow that
was there awaiting her.

[Sidenote: Lost in the Forest]

Arriving at home in the dark, she was startled to find that no one
answered her repeated knocking. Accompanied by an old servant, who had
been with her in the journey, she was about to seek assistance from the
neighbours, when lights were seen in the adjoining forest. She hastened
towards these, and was dismayed to learn that the two children left at
home had strayed away and got lost in the forest. M. Gerretz was amongst
the searchers, nearly frantic. The men were about to give up the search
when Louise, with a prayer for strength on her lips, appealed to them to
try once more. She managed to regulate the search this time, sending the
men off singly in different directions, so as to cover as much ground as
possible. Then with her father she set out herself.

It was morning when they returned. Gerretz, sober enough now, was
bearing the insensible form of the brave girl in his arms. She
recovered, but only to learn that one of the children had been brought
in dead, while the other was nearly so. This sister thus brought so near
to death's door was to prove a sore trial in the future to poor Louise.

A hard life lay befo