details of her funeral, and what preceded it. It was a strange fancy of
hers to ask that Hannah should lay her out Poor Martha! _Devoted_ would
have been better than _beloved_, though God knows I tried to do my best
by her," and with a sigh, both for what had been and what might have
been, the rector arose and started for his home, meeting at the gate of
Grey's Park with Grey himself, who was in Allington for the first time
since his return from Europe.

Lucy had come up a few days before, and had been at once to see Bessie,
of whose illness she had written to Grey, and that had brought him as
soon as he could leave his mother.

"Grey, my boy, how are you?" the rector said, offering his hand, which
Grey took, saying as he did so:

"How is she this morning?"

Mr. Sanford did not know that Grey had ever seen or heard of Bessie
McPherson, but something told him that he meant her, and he replied:

"Very weak and sick. Poor girl! she is too young to die."

"Mr. Sanford," and Grey spoke with great vehemence, "you do not think
Bessie will die? She must not die!" and in his voice and manner there
was something which betrayed his secret to the older man, who said to
him:

"I hope not, Grey, God knows. Pray for her, my boy; pray earnestly.
Prayer can move a mountain, or at least make a way through it. Pray for
the girl you call Bessie."

To one accustomed as Grey was to take everything, however small, to
God, prayer was an easy thing, and every thought was a prayer as he
walked rapidly toward Miss McPherson's house.

"She is sleeping now," Miss Betsey said to him. "We trust she will be
better when she wakens. It is rest she needs more than anything else.
She has had a hard life so far. You have seen a great deal of her, I
believe?"

"I cannot say I have seen a great deal of her, though I feel as though I
had known her always. Yes, she has had a hard life. You do not think she
will die?" was Grey's reply; and in his face and voice Miss Betsey
detected what the rector had discovered.

"No," she said; "I do not believe she will die. Sit down and wait till
she is awake."

So Grey sat down, and waited three hours, during which time the train,
which would have taken him back to Boston, went rushing by, and Bessie
still slept as quietly as an infant. It was Jennie who came at last and
told him that she was awake and better, though too weak to see any one.

"Thank God!" Grey exclaimed, and slipping a bill into the girl's