here thou
lodgest, I will lodge. Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my'
"--She stopped.

"That's right, go on," said Douglas, striving to control the
unsteadiness in his own voice.

"Where thou diest, will I die'"--her arms went out blindly.

"Oh, you won't send me away, will you?" she sobbed. "I don't want to
learn anything else just--except--from you." She covered her face and
slipped, a little, broken heap at his feet.

In an instant the pastor's strong arms were about her, his stalwart body
was supporting her. "You shan't go away. I won't let you--I won't! Do
you hear me, Polly? I won't!"

Her breath was warm against his cheek. He could feel her tears, her arms
about him, as she clung to him helplessly, sobbing and quivering in the
shelter of his strong embrace. "You are never going to leave me--never!"

A new purpose had come into his life, the realisation of a new
necessity, and he knew that the fight which he must henceforth make for
this child was the same that he must make for himself.

Chapter XI

"I'se goin' into de Sunday-school-room to take off dat ere widow's
finishin' touches," said Mandy, as she came down the steps.

"All right!" called Douglas. "Take these with you, perhaps they may
help." He gathered up the garlands which Polly had left on the ground.
His eyes were shining, he looked younger than Mandy had ever seen him.

Polly had turned her back at the sound of Mandy's voice and crossed to
the elm tree, drying her tears of happiness and trying to control her
newly awakened emotions. Douglas felt intuitively that she needed this
moment for recovery, so he piled the leaves and garlands high in Mandy's
arms, then ran into the house with the light step of a boy.

"I got the set-sit-settin' room all tidied up," said Mandy as she shot a
sly glance at Polly.

"That's good," Polly answered, facing Mandy at last and dimpling and
blushing guiltily.

"Mos' de sociable folks will mos' likely be hangin' roun' de parsonage
to-night, 'stead ob stayin' in de Sunday-school-room, whar dey belongs.
Las' time dat ere Widow Willoughby done set aroun' all ebenin' a-tellin'
de parson as how folks could jes' eat off'n her kitchen floor, an' I
ups an' tells her as how folks could pick up a good, squar' meal off'n
MANDY'S floor, too. Guess she'll be mighty careful what she says afore
Mandy to-night." She chuckled as she disappeared down the walk to the
Sunday-school-room.

Polly stood motionless