"and here is some water, dash it on her
well. I will come back in a few moments."

He cast off his own disguise and vanished with his arms full of the
articles he and Hetty had worn. When he returned he found Miss Davis
beginning to breathe again, and Hetty crying over her.

"Oh! Mark, I will never play a trick again as long as I live," whispered
Hetty; "we were near killing her. How could we dare to meddle with her
affairs?"

"How was I to know she had a brother?" grumbled Mark under his breath.
"And what has he to do with the joke of her uncle's marrying?"

"And dying?" said Hetty. "But that's just it, you see, we don't know
anything about it."

"Children," murmured Miss Davis, "what has happened to me? Give me your
hands, Mark, and help me to rise."

They raised her up and laid her on the sofa.

"What was the matter?" repeated Miss Davis, seeing the tears flowing
down Hetty's cheeks.

"Oh! two nasty old people came to see you and frightened you," said
Mark, "and then they walked off, and Hetty and I found you on the
floor."

Hetty gave Mark a reproachful look, coloured deeply, and hung her head.
Mark cast a warning glance at her over Miss Davis's shoulder. He did not
want to be discovered.

"Oh! I remember," moaned Miss Davis. "My poor mother!"

Mark could not bear the unhappy tone of her voice, and turned and fled
out of the room.

"Don't believe any news those people brought you, Miss Davis," said
Hetty. "I am sure they were impostors."

She was longing to say, "Mark and I played a trick for fun," but did not
dare until she had first spoken to Mark.

"Why do you think so? Hetty, is it possible you are crying for me? I did
not think you cared so much about me, my dear."

"I am sorry, I am sorry," cried Hetty, bursting into a fresh fit of
crying; "I did not know you had a little brother, Miss Davis."

"I have, Hetty; next to my mother he is the dearest care of my life. I
could not have told you this but for your tears. My mother and I are
very poor, Hetty, and my uncle had lately taken my boy and promised to
put him forward in the world. He is rather a wilful lad, my poor
darling, and is very delicate besides. Now, it seems, by my uncle's
marriage and death he has lost all the prospect he had in life. And
worst of all he has run away. And my mother is so ill. It will kill
her."

Miss Davis bowed her pale worn face on her hands, and Hetty, young as
she was, seemed to feel the whole meaning of t