nd blushing in
the middle of the room, while Sally studied her all over, and would
not be convinced that the old gown which she was wearing for the
last time was not one of the new wedding ones. The consequence of
which misunderstanding was, that Sally, in her short petticoats and
bedgown, turned up her nose at the old-fashioned way in which Miss
Bradshaw's gown was made. But Jemima knew the old woman, and rather
enjoyed the contempt for her dress. At last she kissed them all, and
ran away to her impatient Mr Farquhar, who was awaiting her.

Not many weeks after this, the poor old woman whom I have named
as having become a friend of Ruth's, during Leonard's illness
three years ago, fell down and broke her hip-bone. It was a
serious--probably a fatal injury, for one so old; and as soon as
Ruth heard of it she devoted all her leisure time to old Ann Fleming.
Leonard had now outstript his mother's powers of teaching, and Mr
Benson gave him his lessons; so Ruth was a great deal at the cottage
both night and day.

There Jemima found her one November evening, the second after their
return from their prolonged stay on the Continent. She and Mr
Farquhar had been to the Bensons, and had sat there some time; and
now Jemima had come on just to see Ruth for five minutes, before the
evening was too dark for her to return alone. She found Ruth sitting
on a stool before the fire, which was composed of a few sticks on the
hearth. The blaze they gave was, however, enough to enable her to
read; and she was deep in study of the Bible, in which she had read
aloud to the poor old woman, until the latter had fallen asleep.
Jemima beckoned her out, and they stood on the green just before the
open door, so that Ruth could see if Ann awoke.

"I have not many minutes to stay, only I felt as if I must see you.
And we want Leonard to come to us to see all our German purchases,
and hear all our German adventures. May he come to-morrow?"

"Yes; thank you. Oh! Jemima, I have heard something--I have got a
plan that makes me so happy! I have not told any one yet. But Mr
Wynne (the parish doctor, you know) has asked me if I would go out as
a sick nurse--he thinks he could find me employment."

"You, a sick nurse!" said Jemima, involuntarily glancing over the
beautiful lithe figure, and the lovely refinement of Ruth's face as
the light of the rising moon fell upon it. "My dear Ruth, I don't
think you are fitted for it!"

"Don't you?" said Ruth, a