hich Connie covered with a frilled pillow-case; and finally she
took out the most precious thing of all--a large crimson and gold shawl,
made of fine, fine silk, which her mother used to wear, and which Connie
dimly remembered as thinking too beautiful for this world. But nothing
was too beautiful for little Giles; and the couch with its crimson
covering was all ready for him when Harris reappeared, bearing the boy
in his arms.

"I kivered him up with his own blanket," he said, turning to Connie.
"Ain't that sofy comfor'ble to look at? You lie on the sofa, sonny, an'
then yer'll know wot it be to be well tended."

Little Giles was placed there, and Connie prepared a hot bottle to put
to his feet, while Harris returned to the empty room to fetch away the
medicine and get the things which Dr. Deane had ordered. He left a
message, too, with Mrs. Nelson, telling her what had become of the boy,
and asking Dr. Deane to call at his house in the future.

"You be a good man," said Mrs. Nelson in a tone of great admiration. "My
word, now! and ain't it lucky for the kid? You be a man o' money, Mr.
Harris--he'll want for nothing with you."

"He'll want for nothing no more to the longest day he lives," answered
Harris.

"Ah, sir," said Mrs. Nelson, "he--he won't live long; he'll want for
nothing any more, sir, in the Paradise of God."

"Shut up!" said Harris roughly. "Ye're all with yer grumblin's and moans
jest like other women."

"And what message am I to give to Sue--poor girl--when she comes 'ome?"
called Mrs. Nelson after him.

But Harris made no reply to this; only his steps rang out hard and firm
and cruel on the frosty ground.

CHAPTER XXII.

NEWS OF SUE.

The next morning, when Connie awoke, she remembered all the dreadful
things that had happened. She was home again. That strange, mysterious
man, Simeon Stylites, had let her go. How awful would have been her fate
but for him!

"He were a wery kind man," thought Connie. "And now I must try to forget
him. I must never mention his name, nor think of him no more for ever.
That's the way I can serve him best--pore Mr. Simeon! He had a very
genteel face, and w'en he spoke about his little sister it were real
touching. But I mustn't think of him, for, ef I do, some day I might let
his name slip, an' that 'ud do him a hurt."

Connie's thoughts, therefore, quickly left Simeon Stylites, Agnes
Coppenger, Freckles, Nutmeg, and Corkscrew, and returned to the ex