Dorothy, "thou hast no mother to come to thee
now, no companion or friend to minister to thee. This is my place. Do
not fear that I shall annoy or weary thee. I shall but serve and obey
thee, coming and going at thy bidding. Truly thou art too weak and
afflicted to be left any more alone."

"It may not be, dear child. Thy father and mother or others of thy
kinsfolk need thee at home."

"All these have been long dead," said Dorothy, "and I am alone. Here
in the wood I will find me a hollow tree, and thou shalt but call to
have me by thee, and but lift a finger to see me no more."

"Why wouldst thou do this for me?" asked Waldo, wondering at her
persistency.

"Ah, brother, I know thy suffering and I love thy songs."

"And dost thou not shudder at this horror that is upon me, and dread
lest the like befall thee too?"

Then Dorothy laughed low and softly to herself, and answered only so.

In this wise the maiden came to minister to the poor recluse, and so
gracious was she and humble, so prudent and yet so tender, that in his
suffering she was great solace to him, bringing his food from the
boulder and his drink from the brook, cleaning his cell and freshening
it with fragrant herbs; and about the cell she made a garden of
wholesome plants and wild flowers, and all kindly service that was
within her power she did for him.

So beautiful was she and of such exceeding sweetness, that when his
eyes rested upon her, he questioned in his mind whether she was a true
woman and not an Angel sent down to console him in his dereliction.
And that doubt perplexed and troubled him, for so little are we Angels
yet that in our aches and sorrows of the flesh it is not the comfort of
Angels but the poor human pitiful touch of the fellow-creature that we
most yearn for. Once, indeed, he asked her fretfully, "Tell me truly
in the name of God, art thou a very woman of flesh and blood?"

"Truly then, brother," she answered, smiling, "I am of mortal flesh and
blood even as thou art, and time shall be when this body that thou
seest will be mingled with the dust of the earth."

"Is it then the way of women to sacrifice so much for men as thou hast
done for me?"

"It is the way of women who love well," said Dorothy.

"Then needs must I thank thy namesake and my patroness in heaven,"
rejoined Waldo.

"Yea, and is St. Dorothea thy patroness?" asked the maiden.

Waldo told her that so it was, and rapturously he spoke of the yo