last there was no hope, and the anxious group which
watched her knew full well that ere long among them would be a vacant
chair, and in the family burying ground an added grave.

One evening Mrs. Hamilton seemed more than usually restless, and
requested her daughters to leave her, that she might compose herself
to sleep. Scarcely was she alone when with cat-like tread there glided
through the doorway the dark figure of a woman, who advanced toward
the bedside, noiselessly as a serpent would steal to his ambush. She
was apparently forty-five years of age, and dressed in deep mourning,
which seemed to increase the marble whiteness of her face. Her eyes,
large, black, and glittering, fastened themselves upon, the invalid
with a gaze so intense that Mrs. Hamilton's hand involuntarily sought
the bell-rope, to summon some one else to her room.

But ere the bell was rung a strangely sweet, musical voice fell on her
ear, and arrested her movements. "Pardon me for intruding," said the
stranger, "and suffer me to introduce myself. I am Mrs. Carter, who
not long since removed to the village. I have heard of your illness,
and wishing to render you any assistance in my power, I have ventured,
unannounced, into your presence, hoping that I at least am not
unwelcome."

Mrs. Hamilton had heard of a widow lady, who with an only daughter had
recently removed to the village, which lay at the foot of the long
hill on which stood the old homestead. She had heard, too, that Mrs.
Carter, though rather singular in some respects, was unusually
benevolent, spending much time in visiting the sick and needy, and, as
far as possible, ministering to their comfort.

Extending her hand, she said, "I know you by reputation, Mrs. Carter,
and feel greatly pleased that you have thought to visit me. Pray be
seated."

This last invitation was superfluous, for with the air of a person
entirely at home, the lady had seated herself, and as the room was
rather warm, she threw back her bonnet, disclosing to view a mass of
rich brown hair, which made her look several years younger than she
really was. Nothing could be more apparently kind and sincere than
were her words of sympathy, nothing more soothing than the sound of
her voice; and when she for a moment raised Mrs. Hamilton, while she
adjusted her pillows, the sick woman declared that never before had
any one done it so gently or so well.

Mrs. Carter was just resuming her seat when in the adjoining