ondon; and Evan deserted me before baby
was born. I couldn't find him again anywhere in London; and it was a
dreadful place to stay in without money, and no home. He hadn't been
good to me for a long while before he left me. I've been a very wicked
girl, but I've been sorely punished for it, Nathan; and I'd rather die
now, I think, than get well again."

"My poor lass!" answered old Nathan, pitifully, "say, 'Let it be as God
pleases.'"

"Let it be as God pleases!" repeated Rhoda, in her faint, hollow voice.

Never could anyone be better nursed than Rhoda was nursed. Aunt
Priscilla watched over her day and night, hardly taking rest, and
sleeping only a few minutes at a time. No noise was permitted about the
farm that could disturb her; only the old, familiar sounds of cattle
lowing, and sheep bleating, and the cackling of barn-door fowls, which
were as soothing as pleasant music to her ears. Joan and the baby were
always in sight; except when they were sleeping in a little bed on the
floor, near at hand, that she might never feel any fear concerning
them. Every morsel of food she ate was prepared by Aunt Priscilla
herself, who would not trust even Nurse Williams to do anything for
Rhoda.

For a few days it was very doubtful whether she could recover from the
cold and hunger and weariness she had endured; but by-and-by there came
a slight change, and by the time the spring began there was no longer
any fear of her dying.

But Rhoda was never the same again. Her pretty looks were gone, and so
were her merry ways. She was a quiet and grave woman now; often sad.
Year after year went by, and she heard nothing of the husband who had
deserted her. Her aunt found her more of a companion than she had ever
been before; and they two, with old Nathan, gleaned all the brightness
of their lives from Joan and the baby.

The old farmstead was a happier home for Joan than it had ever been for
Rhoda. She had few indulgences, but she had the baby, the wonderful
child whom she had found lying in the manger on Christmas Day.
By-and-by, as she grew older, she understood Rhoda's sorrowful story,
and how it was he had been laid there in order that she might find him.
But every Christmas morning she stole early across the fold, and into
the silent and empty shed, as if to seek the Christmas child; and when
the baby was old enough she took him with her, and told him how she had
found him there, and knew he was come to bring

Peace on e