ntered into Helen Cardross's good heart toward the Earl of Cairn
forth a deep tenderness, which from that hour nothing ever altered or
estranged.

It was not pity--something far deeper. Had he been fretful,
fractious, disagreeable, she would still have been very sorry for him
and very kind to him. But now, to see him as he was--cheerful,
patient; so ready with his interest in others, so utterly without
envying and complaining regarding himself--changed what would
otherwise have been mere compassion into actual reverence. As she sat
beside him in his little chair, not looking at him much, for she still
found it difficult to overcome the painful impression of the sight of
that crippled and deformed body, she felt a choking in her throat and a
dimness in her eyes--a longing to do any thing in the wide world that
would help or comfort the poor little earl.

"Do you learn any lessons?" asked she, thinking he seemed to enjoy
talking with her. "I thought at dinner today that you seemed to know a
great many things."

"Did I? That is very odd, for I fancied I knew nothing; and I want to
learn every thing--if Mr. Cardross will teach me. I should like to
sit and read all day long. I could do it by myself, now that I have
found out a way of holding the book and turning over the leaves without
nurse's helping me. Malcolm invented it--Malcolm is so clever and so
kind."

"Is Malcolm always with you?"

"Oh yes; how could I do without Malcolm? And you are quite sure your
father will teach me every thing I want to learn?" pursued the little
earl, very eagerly.

Helen was quite sure.

"And there is another thing. Mr. Menteith says I must try, if possible,
to learn to write--if only so as to be able to sign my name. In
eleven more years, when I am a man, he says I shall often be required to
sign my name. Do you think I could manage to learn?"

Helen looked at the poor, twisted, powerless fingers, and doubted it
very much. Still she said cheerfully, "It would anyhow be a good thing
to try."

"So it would--and I'll try. I'll begin tomorrow. Will you"--with
a pathetic entreaty in the soft eyes--"it might be too much trouble
for Mr. Cardross--but will you teach me?"

"Yes, my dear!" said Helen, warmly, "that I will."

"Thank you. And"--still hesitating--"please would you always call
me 'my dear' instead of 'my lord;' and might I call you Helen?"

So they "made a paction 'twixt them twa"--the poor little helpless