r good. But when I'd got as far as here I begun to get
scared on her account. I'd set out to humble Oliver but I liked Leah,
poor creatur'! and I'd forgot I might be hurtin' her the worst. She'd
never been 'mongst folks and they might treat her rough. So then I
remembered this little girl, and how there was talk 'round about her
having a passel of young folks to visit her. So I thought Leah would
have a chance amongst 'em and I fetched her in and laid her right in
this summer-house, on that bench yonder and covered her with a shawl I
saw. She was asleep as she is a lot of the time, and didn't notice.

"Then I went on to the Landing, left the rig to the stable, and took
the cars for York. I've been there ever since. I never meant to come
back; but there's something about this mountain 't pulls wanderers'
feet back to it, whether or no. And--is Leah here?"

"Rather it was your own guilty conscience that brought you back. Yes,
I suppose it is 'Leah'--the witless waif my Dorothy found. And now I
understand my poor neighbor's trouble. I am proud myself. Ah! yes I
can understand! After the silence of a lifetime, how he shrank from
publishing what he seems to have considered a disgrace to a gossiping
world. But he was wrong. Such pride is always wrong; and he has spent
a most unhappy time, searching with his own eyes everywhere but never
asking for his lost Leah! but he was cruel in that, as cruel as
misguided; and as for you, sir, the sooner you get upon your wicked
feet and travel to Heartsease and tell its master where the poor thing
may be found--the better for yourself. I think such an act as you
committed is punishable by the strictest rigor of the law; but whether
it is or not your own conscience will punish you forever. Now----"

Mrs. Calvert stopped speaking and rose. She had never been so stately
nor so severe and Dorothy pitied the poor old man who cowered before
her, even while she was herself fiercely indignant against him. By a
clasp of Mrs. Betty's arm she stayed her leaving:

"Wait a moment, Aunt Betty, please. It's just as bad as you say, he's
just as bad; but--he's terrible tired and old. He looks sick, almost,
and I've been thinking while he talked: You let me stay at home, take
Portia and the pony cart and carry Luna--Leah--and him back to
Heartsease right away. May I, please?"

"But to miss the Fair? He should have the unpleasant task of
confessing himself, and nobody else to shield him."

"Please, A