ut her arm round the sobbing child.

But Betty could not put her feelings into words; she only shook her head
and sobbed, 'I like the music; don't stop singing.'

'I must stop now: my hour is up. Tell me who you are.'

Betty made an effort to recover her self-possession.

'I'm only Betty,' she said, dabbing her face with her handkerchief; 'are
you an angel?'

'Indeed I am not; do I look like one?'

And the lady threw back her head and laughed in a very amused way.

'Not now,' said Betty soberly; 'but you did look like one when you were
singing, and I--I hoped you might be.'

'Why did you hope so?'

Again Betty was silent; then, looking up, she seemed to gather courage
from the kind face looking down upon her, and burying her face in the
lady's dress, she sobbed out,--

'I thought God might have sent you; and then you could have told me lots
of things I wanted to know.'

'Perhaps God may have sent me instead of an angel. Tell me some of the
things you want to know.'

'I want to know about Violet, and heaven, and tribulation,' murmured
Betty a little incoherently; and then she started as the church clock in
the belfry began to chime five.

'It's tea-time; nurse will be looking for me.'

The lady stooped and kissed her. 'I must go too,' she said; 'will you
come and see me to-morrow afternoon? I shall be here at the same time,
and then we can have a little talk.'

'What is your name?' asked Betty.

'Nesta,' the young lady answered, a little briefly.

'And do you teach children?' was the next question, breathlessly put.

'Sometimes; on Sundays I do.'

Betty's face lighted up, but she said no more, and trotted out of the
church and along the road as hard as ever she could.

CHAPTER V

Prince

The children were all at breakfast the next morning in the
old-fashioned kitchen. Nurse and her brother were having an animated
talk over some reminiscences of the past, when there was a knock at the
back door, and Mrs. Giles went out. Coming back, she appeared with a
small hamper under her arm, which she placed on the floor.

''Tis the queerest thing I know of,' she said; 'look at the label now,
Jack; whoever is it for?'

Every one crowded round at once.

'For the little odd one at Brook Farm.'

''Tis for one of the children,' said Jack, rubbing his head; 'they be
the only little 'uns that I know of.'

'It's for Betty!' shouted Douglas and Molly excitedly; 'she's the odd
one! Open it quic