to stay here. Come
with me,"--and he took her hand to lead her forth.

But she resisted him, saying, that "fasting and solitude were nature's
great restoratives."

"She has showed her good sense for once," said Miss Grundy, on hearing
of Sally's whereabouts, "but' ain't the critter hungry?" and owing to
some newly touched chord of kindness, a slice of toast and a cup of
hot tea erelong found entrance into the darksome cell.

Strange to say, too, the hand which brought it was not repulsed,
though very demurely and in seeming earnestness was the question
asked, "Mrs. Grundy, haven't you met with a change?"

The next day was the funeral. At first there was some talk of burying
the child in the same inclosure with Patsy; but Mary plead so
earnestly to have her laid by her mother, that her request was
granted, and that night when the young spring moon came out, it looked
quietly down upon the grave of little Alice, who by her mother's side
was sweetly sleeping.

CHAPTER XII.

A NEW FRIEND.

Three weeks had passed away since Alice's death, and affairs at the
poor-house were beginning to glide on as usual. Sal Furbush, having
satisfied her own ideas of propriety by remaining secluded for two or
three days, had once more appeared in society; but now that Alice was
no longer there to be watched, time hung wearily upon her hands, and
she was again seized with her old desire for authorship. Accordingly,
a grammar was commenced, which she said would contain Nine Hundred and
Ninety Nine rules for speaking the English language correctly!

Mary, who had resumed her post as dish washer in the kitchen, was
almost daily expecting Jenny; and one day when Billy came in to
dinner, he gave her the joyful intelligence that Jenny had returned,
and had been in the field to see him, bidding him tell Mary to meet
her that afternoon in the woods by the brook.

"Oh, I do hope Miss Grundy will let me go," said Mary, "and I guess
she will, for since Allie died, she hasn't been near so cross."

"If she don't, I will," answered Mr. Parker, who chanced to be
standing near, and who had learned to regard the little orphan girl
with more than usual interest.

But Miss Grundy made no objections, and when the last dishcloth was
wrung dry, and the last iron spoon put in its place, Mary bounded
joyfully away to the woods, where she found Jenny, who embraced her in
a manner which showed that she had not been forgotten.

"Oh," said she, "I'