very much relieved to
find that her listeners did not seem to have heard about the
circumstances of Ab Cowan's death.

"Oh, I tell ye, Doctor Clay's the fellow," she said, her eyes sparkling
with enthusiasm. "He knew what was wrong wid Arthur the minute he
clapped his eyes on him--tore open his little satchel, slapped the
chloroform into his face, whisked out his knives and slashed into him
as aisy as ma wud into a pair of pants for Jimmie there, and him
waitin' for them."

"Look at that now!" her father exclaimed, pulling out the damper of the
stove and spitting in the ashes. "Yon's a man'll make his mark wherever
he goes."

A knock sounded on the door. Teddy opened it and admitted Camilla and
Jim Russell.

"I've got a letter for you Pearl," Jim said when the greetings were
over. "When Tom brought the mail this evening this letter for you was
in with the others, and Arthur brought it over to see if I would bring
it in. I didn't really want to come, but seeing as it was for you,
Pearl, I came."

Camilla was not listening to him at all.

Pearl took the letter wonderingly. "Read it Camilla," she said, handing
it to her friend.

Camilla broke the seal and read it. It was from Alfred Austin Wemyss,
Rector of St. Agnes, Tillbury Road, County of Kent, England.

It was a stately letter, becoming a rector, dignified and chaste in its
language. It was the letter of a dignitary of the Church to an unknown
and obscure child in a distant land, but it told of a father and
mother's gratitude for a son's life saved, it breathed an admiration
for the little girl's devotion and heroism, and a love for her that
would last as long as life itself.

Pearl sat in mute wonder, as Camilla read--that could not mean her!

We do not mean to offer money as a payment for what you have done, dear
child (Camilla read on), for such a service of love can only be paid in
love; but we ask you to accept from us this gift as our own daughter
would accept it if we had had one, and we will be glad to think that it
has been a help to you in the securing of an education. Our brother,
the bishop, wishes you to take from him a gift of 20 pounds, and it is
his desire that you should spend it in whatever way will give you the
most pleasure. We are, dear Pearl,

Your grateful friends, ALFRED A. and MARY WEMYSS.

"Here is a Bank of England draft for 120 pounds, nearly $600," Camilla
said, as she finished the letter.

The Watson family sat dumb wit