speech, unable
to stand the moveless glance, that seemed to burn like heated metal into
her conscience.

"Come, Miss Thusa," said Louis, amiably, desirous of turning her
thoughts into a new channel, and pitying while he blamed his offending
sister, for the humiliation he knew she must endure--"come and tell us a
story, while you are inspired. It is so long since I have heard one! Let
it be something new and exciting."

"I don't believe I could tell you one to save my life, now," replied
Miss Thusa, her countenance lighting up with a gleam of
satisfaction--"at least I couldn't act it out."

"Never mind the acting, Miss Thusa, provided we hear the tale. Let it be
a _powerful_ one."

"Don't tell the _worm-eaten traveler_," whispered Helen. "I never want
to hear that again."

Miss Thusa see-sawed a moment in her low chair, to give a kind of
balance to her imagination, and then began:

"Once there was a maiden, who lived in a forest, a deep wild forest, in
which there wasn't so much as the sign of a path, and nobody but she
could find their way in or out. How this was, I don't know, but it was
astonishing how many people got lost in those woods, where she rambled
about as easy as if somebody was carrying a torch before her. Perhaps
the fairies helped her--perhaps the evil spirits--I rather think the
last, for though she was fair to look upon, her heart was as hard as the
nether mill-stone."

Miss Thusa caught a glimpse of Mittie, on the porch, through the open
doors, and she raised her voice, as she proceeded:

"One night, when the moon was shining large and clear, she was wandering
through the forest, all alone, when she heard a little, tender voice
behind her, and turning round, she saw a young child, with its hair all
loose and wet, as 'twere, calling after her.

"'I've lost my way,' it cried--'pray help me to find a path in the
greenwood.'

"'Find it by the moonlight,' answered the maiden, 'it shines for you, as
well as for me.'

"'But I'm little,' cried the child, beginning to weep, 'and my feet are
all blistered with running. Take me up in your arms a little while, for
you are strong, and the Saviour will give you a golden bed in Heaven to
lie down on.'

"'I want no golden bed. I had rather sleep on down than gold,' answered
the maid, and she mocked the child, and went on, putting her hands to
her ears, to keep out the cries of the little one, that came through the
thick trees, with a mighty piteous s