children all went away, by twos and
threes, save a few, and silence came with the increasing darkness, and
the dim gas jets were lighted overhead, her heart, oppressed by a
thousand fears, sunk within her, and she fell to sobbing bitterly.

Now there were not wanting kind hearts in the little groups around the
stove; for there was Mary Dennett, with her five laddies, going to join
her husband at the mines in Maryland; and Janet Brown, her neighbor,
with her three rosy lassies; and Jessie Lawson, with her wee Davie; and
not one of these three would see a child suffering without offering
consolation. Kind Janet soon had her folded in motherly arms in spite of
the bundle and the great umbrella, which the lassie stoutly refused to
part with for a moment; and Mary Dennett, crossing over to the counter
on the far side of the room, bought her cakes and apples; while the
children, not to be outdone, made shy endeavors to beguile her into
their innocent play.

But to each and all of these Jeanie turned a deaf ear, moaning
constantly: "I want my ain, ain gran'daddie; he hae gaun awa', an' left
me alane. Oh, gran'daddie, cam back to your Jeanie!"

The evening wore on into night, and still no Sandy came to comfort
Jeanie; but there came that great consoler, sleep. Soon she slumbered in
Janet's arms, and the kind soul, fearing to waken her, held her there
till the beds for the little company were spread on the floor; then she
laid Jeanie tenderly down, with her treasures still clasped in her arms,
and covering her, stooped to print a warm kiss on the round tear-stained
cheek, not forgetting to breathe a prayer for the missing Sandy's safe
return.

The snow glistened on the walks and grass-plats of the park without; the
wind roared down the streets and whistled among the bare branches of the
trees, and rushing along, heaped up the waters in huge billows, dashing
them against the great stone pier; men passed to and fro, but Sandy came
not, for far off in the great city he had lost his way.

In vain he had asked every one to tell him where his foster-son Alec
Deans lived. Meeting only laughter or rebuffs, he tried in the growing
darkness to find his way back to Castle Garden, but could not. No one
seemed to understand him, or cared to; so at last, worn out in mind and
body, he sunk down on the stone steps of a house, unable to proceed a
step further.

Bright and early the next morning at Castle Garden the women were roused
from