which
can only be filled up in heaven, and perhaps the first treasure restored
to us there will be the unspeakable gift of a mother's love.

"I have never had a daughter," said Mrs. Beaton, with a slight trembling
in her voice. "When Meta Neale came I sometimes caught a glimpse of what
a daughter might be."

The room was growing darker, but Elsie felt rather than saw the swift
look of pain which swept across Andrew's face. She felt in her mind,
magnetically, the feeling that was in his. It came to her all at
once--that sudden, strange intuition which reveals to us the deep places
in other people's lives.

He, too, had caught a glimpse of what a daughter might have been to his
mother. He had seen how lovely his life might have grown if he could
have won Meta. But that vision had been sternly put away from him;
neither in this life nor the next would she belong to him.

It was worse than a loss, Elsie thought. It was "the devotion to
something afar" from his own sphere--a longing for the light of a star
that had never shone into his world at all. He was not grieving for a
gift given and taken away, but for a treasure which had never for an
instant come within his reach. She went away in the gathering dusk with
a heart full of sympathy. Had the "vanished hand" guided her into the
path of his solitary life that she might shed a ray of brightness there?

Miss Saxon was waiting for her with an anxious face. Some people had
called and left cards--friends who had lived once near her old
neighbourhood. Elsie felt very little interest in them now; her mind was
full of new feelings; she did not care to talk over bygone days. "I
don't want to begin visiting," she said. "I am so busy, Miss Saxon! In
this life of mine there is so much to do--is there not?"

CHAPTER VII

_MRS. PENN_

"I have a boy of five years old,
His face is fair and fresh to see,
His limbs are cast in beauty's mould,
And dearly he loves me."
--WORDSWORTH.

Three days went by, and then Elsie bent her steps to Wardour Street
again. Andrew Beaton was in his old place behind the counter, but his
face did not look any brighter than usual.

"No answer yet, Miss Kilner," he said. "My mother is worried about the
matter. She thinks that we have neglected a duty. I am glad you have
come. She is too much alone."

Elsie found the old lady sitting dejectedly in her little parlour, but
she brightened at th