pointed her pistol, and how
she got out; and then she exclaimed in wonder, and called her escape a
miracle.

They were both weary from excitement when the tale was told. Elizabeth ate
her lunch; then the old lady showed her where to put the horse, and made
her go to bed. It was only a wee little room with a cot-bed white as snow
where she put her; but the roses peeped in at the window, and the box
covered with an old white curtain contained a large pitcher of fresh
water and a bowl and soap and towels. The old lady brought her a clean
white nightgown, coarse and mended in many places, but smelling of rose
leaves; and in the morning she tapped at the door quite early before the
girl was up, and came in with an armful of clothes.

"I had some boarders last summer," she explained, "and, when they went
away, they left these things and said I might put them into the
home-mission box. But I was sick when they sent it off this winter; and,
if you ain't a home mission, then I never saw one. You put 'em on. I guess
they'll fit. They may be a mite large, but she was about your size. I
guess your clothes are about wore out; so you jest leave 'em here fer the
next one, and use these. There's a couple of extra shirt-waists you can
put in a bundle for a change. I guess folks won't dare fool with you if
you have some clean, nice clothes on."

Elizabeth looked at her gratefully, and wrote her down in the list of
saints with the woman who read the fourteenth chapter of John. The old
lady had neglected to mention that from her own meagre wardrobe she had
supplied some under-garments, which were not included in those the
boarders had left.

Bathed and clothed in clean, sweet garments, with a white shirt-waist and
a dark-blue serge skirt and coat, Elizabeth looked a different girl. She
surveyed herself in the little glass over the box-washstand and wondered.
All at once vanity was born within her, and an ambition to be always thus
clothed, with a horrible remembrance of the woman of the day before, who
had promised to show her how to earn some pretty clothes. It flashed
across her mind that pretty clothes might be a snare. Perhaps they had
been to those girls she had seen in that house.

With much good advice and kindly blessings from the old lady, Elizabeth
fared forth upon her journey once more, sadly wise in the wisdom of the
world, and less sweetly credulous than she had been, but better fitted to
fight her way.

The story of he