ast
darling of her heart out alone and unprotected. Indeed, she sat so
still, and looked so anxious for a time after he had gone, that
Alfaretta ventured to touch her hand, and to comfort, saying:

"Don't you worry, dear Madam. Nothin' 'll happen to Monty. Mr. Jones,
he's well acquainted with him, an' he says 'at Monty's got as many lives
as a cat. He's fell down-stairs, an' out of a cherry-tree, an' choked on
fish-bones, an' had green-apple colic, an' been kicked by Squire
Pettijohn's bull, an' tumbled into Foxes' Gully,--and that ain't but six
things that might ha' killed him an' didn't. Besides, Monty's a good
runner. Why, Madam, he's the fastest runner goes to school! True. He's
more'n likely half-way there whilst we're just a-talkin'. Shall I fetch
your specs an' the _Chronicle_ newspaper? Readin' might pass the time
till he gets back, an' I guess--I guess I won't be too scared to wash
the dishes in the kitchen, if--if you'll let me leave the door open
between."

Alfaretta had enumerated the various disasters which had befallen
Montgomery upon finger after finger, and with such perfect gravity that
the anxious grandmother was amused, in spite of her fear, and felt
herself greatly cheered. With a kindly smile, she answered:

"Yes, Alfy, please do bring it; and, of course, you need not close the
door. We are sadly late with the work to-night, but you may sit up till
my son comes back. You are a dear, good child, Alfaretta, doing your
duty faithfully in that state of life to which you were born, and you
are a comfort to me."

The happy girl fairly flew to bring the "specs" and the last number of
the religious weekly which Eunice regularly sent to her old friend.
Conscience was rather doubtful about that ever faithful performance of
duty; but why worry? Praise was sweet, doubly sweet from one so fine a
pattern of all the virtues as her mistress, and Alfaretta had found
comfort for her own self in comforting another. Besides, now she was
either getting used to it, or the storm was lulling, for the blinds did
not rattle as they had, and that mournful soughing of the wind in the
tall chimneys had nearly ceased.

The bond-maid had rarely "done" her dishes so swiftly or so well, and,
having set them in their places, she put out the kitchen candle, fetched
her knitting, and sat down on her own stool beside the fireplace. For a
wonder she was not sleepy. Too much had occurred that day to fill her
imagination, and now th