I think, in her last days."

"It was not long; only the outlines of her story were told. The
manuscript began with the words, 'If I only knew that some one would be
kind to Jamie,' and ever since I read them I have been longing to find
Jamie and be kind to him."

Mrs. Beaton had put on her spectacles, and was regarding the speaker
with an intent gaze.

"Do you know," she said, after a pause, "that you don't seem a stranger
to me? You are like Miss Neale--so much like her that you might pass for
her sister. Many a time she has sat where you are sitting now."

"It is as I thought," Elsie murmured. "I have been guided by a vanished
hand."

The old lady smiled.

"We are all guided," she said; "but sometimes the guidance is more
plainly manifested than usual, or it may be that our perceptions are
quickened. You will be disappointed when I tell you that I don't know
where Jamie is now. However, you must keep up your heart, and not be
discouraged."

"I will not be discouraged," Elsie answered resolutely. "Did Mrs. Penn
take the boy away with her?"

"She did. She went away more than a year ago, and she has not fulfilled
her promise of writing to me. If I had not been old and rheumatic I
would have kept the little fellow myself."

"I wish you had kept him," Elsie said earnestly. "But until he is safe
in my own keeping I shall not rest."

"That was spoken like Miss Neale," the old lady remarked. "You are
prettier than she was; I am an old woman, and you won't mind my plain
speaking. She was not as tall as you are, and her eyes were grey instead
of brown, as yours are; but she had your black lashes and eyebrows. She
always wore a very peaceful look, a look that comes to some people after
great suffering. Your face is more eager than hers."

"Mrs. Beaton," said Elsie, bending forward entreatingly, "I want to hear
Meta's story from one who knew her. She has said very little about
herself in her manuscript. Won't you begin at once, and tell me all that
you know?"

"Yes, my dear, I will tell you," Mrs. Beaton replied. "I have missed her
very much. She used to come and talk to me when she had a little time to
spare. Hers was a busy life, and it was a life lived for others. She was
always going about among the burden-bearers, and trying to lighten the
burdens. That was how it was that she met Mr. Waring."

CHAPTER VI

_HAROLD AND META_

"The dear Lord's best interpreters
Are humble human souls;