s of hymns, and soothing him tenderly
if he began to cry, Rhoda's eyes shone with a tender light, though the
tears dimmed them at times. It was a peaceful, tranquil day, with few
words spoken by anyone. Aunt Priscilla's step had never been so quiet,
or her voice so gentle; and she seemed to Joan to be quite a different
person.

When the short afternoon was over, and Nathan's work was done, he came
upstairs to visit Rhoda. She had been as dear to him as his own child;
and as he took her small, withered hand in his, his dim old eyes grew
dark with tears.

"I saw you every day twice," she said, pausing often for breath; "I was
hiding in the barn. I hid myself on Christmas Eve among the straw--like
Joan and me used to do for fun--and I laid the baby asleep in the
manger--for Joan to find; and I saw her come, and heard her sing--I was
watching her and you. And after that I couldn't go away; there was
nowhere and nobody to go to; and I stayed hiding in the barn. But I was
very cold and miserable; I was frightened of dying there in the barn.
And in the night I came close to the house--to look for food--and
hearken if I could hear the baby. I'm not frightened or miserable now."

"Never mind the trouble now, Rhoda," said old Nathan. "Your aunt's
forgiven you, and taken you home again; and God, He'll forgive us all,
and take us home again some day. Think o' getting well and strong again,
my poor lass."

"Not me," murmured Rhoda, faintly; "it's best for me to die, I know.
Baby 'll be happier without me. I couldn't play with him and make him
merry. Joan 'ill be as a little mother to him, won't you, Joan? I'm
going to give him to you for your very own."

"For my very own!" repeated Joan, with wondering, wide-open eyes.

[Illustration: NATHAN CAME UPSTAIRS TO VISIT RHODA]

"Ay! if aunty will let me," answered Rhoda, smiling; "she 'll love the
baby, I know, now she's reconciled to me. Nathan, she forgives me,
and God forgives me. I'm not unhappy any more."

"Rhoda, my lass," said old Nathan, "thy aunt 'ill never be happy no
more, if thou dies. She's pardoned thee with all her heart; and thou
must try to live, and pay her back. Tell me where thou 's been all this
long while."

For a few minutes Rhoda lay silent, with a look of pain on her young,
pale face.

"I dare n't ever have spoke to aunty," she murmured at last, "she's so
bitter against marrying. And so I ran away, and we were married at
Bristol; and then we went to L