to worse. I don't say Will hasn't
always been tender and true to me, and absolutely devoted to Lucy. But
he lost all hope of being loved as he loved me, and the disappointment
broke him down. He became an old man early in life, and his lack of
energy kept us very poor. I used to take in sewing before the accident
to my eyes, and that helped a good deal to pay expenses. But now I am
helpless, and my husband devotes all his time to me, although I beg him
to work the farm and try to earn some money.

"I wouldn't have minded the poverty; I wouldn't mind being blind, even,
if Lucy had been spared to me. I have had to bear so much in my life
that I could even bear my child's death. But to have her disappear and
not know what has become of her--whether she is living miserably or
lying at the bottom of the river--it is this that is driving me
distracted."

Kenneth and Beth remained silent for a time after Mrs. Rogers had
finished her tragic story, for their hearts were full of sympathy for
the poor woman. It was hard to realize that a refined, beautiful and
educated girl had made so sad a mistake of her life and suffered so many
afflictions as a consequence. That old Will had never been a fitting
mate for his wife could readily be understood, and yet the man was still
devoted to his helpless, unresponsive spouse. The fault was not his.

The boy and the girl both perceived that there was but one way they
could assist Mrs. Rogers, and that was to discover what had become of
her child.

"Was Lucy like you, or did she resemble her father?" asked Beth.

"She is--she was very like me when I was young," replied the woman.
"There is a photograph of her on the wall there between the windows; but
it was taken five years ago, when she was a child. Now she is--she was
eighteen, and a well-developed young woman."

"I've been looking at the picture," said Kenneth.

"And you mustn't think of her as dead, Mrs. Rogers," said Beth,
pleadingly. "I'm sure she is alive, and that we shall find her. We're
going right to work, and everything possible shall be done to trace your
daughter. Don't worry, please. Be as cheerful as you can, and leave the
search to us."

The woman sighed.

"Will believes she is alive, too," she said. "He can't sleep or rest
till he finds her, for my husband loves her as well as I do. But
sometimes I feel it's wicked to hope she is alive. I know what she
suffers, for I suffered, myself; and life isn't worth living