ng the strawberry-field, Helen's
steps involuntarily grew slower, and she hung back heavily on the hand
of her companion. Her old fears came rushing over her, drowning her
new-born courage.

Arthur laid his hand on the top rail, and vaulted over as lightly as a
bird, then held out his arms towards her.

"Climb, and I will catch you," said he, with an encouraging smile. Poor
little Helen felt constrained to obey him, though she turned white as
snow--and when he took her in his arms, he felt her heart beating and
fluttering like the wings of a caged humming-bird.

"Ah, I see the silver bucket," he cried, "all filled with strawberries.
The enemy is fled; the coast is clear."

He still held her in his arms, while he stooped and lifted the bucket,
then again vaulted over the fence, as if no burden impeded his
movements.

"You are safe," said he, "and you can now gladden your mother's heart by
this sweet offering. Are you sorry you came?"

"Oh! no," she replied, "I feel happy now." She insisted upon his eating
part of the strawberries, but he refused, and as they walked home, he
gathered green leaves and flowers, and made a garland round them.

"What makes you so good to me?" she exclaimed, with an irresistible
impulse, looking gratefully in his face.

"Because I like you," he replied; "you remind me, too, of a dear little
sister of mine, whom I love very tenderly. Poor unfortunate Alice! Your
lot is happier than hers."

"What makes _me_ happier?" asked Helen, thinking that one who had so
kind a brother ought to be happy.

"She is blind," he replied, "she never saw one ray of light."

"Oh! how dreadful!" cried Helen, "to live all the time in the dark! Oh!
I should be afraid to live at all!"

"I said you were happier, Helen; but I recall my words. She is not
afraid, though all the time midnight shadows surround her. A sweet smile
usually rests upon her face, and her step is light and springy as the
grasshopper's leap."

"But it must be so dreadful to be blind!" repeated Helen. "How I do pity
her!"

"It is a great misfortune, one of the greatest that can be inflicted
upon a human being--but she does not murmur. She confides in the love of
those around her, and feels as if their eyes were her own. Were I to ask
her to walk over burning coals, she would put her hand in mine, to lead
her, so entire is her trust, so undoubting is her faith."

"How I wish I could be like her!" said Helen, in a tone of deep
humili