ot of the
tall form, shrouded in trailing, black garments, and of the pale face,
encircled by the border of the widow's cap, and shaded by the heavy
widow's veil, struck her with something like terror, which must have
ended in tears and sobs and painful excitement, if her mother had not
seen the danger in time and carried her away.

"Poor darling! I fear she is no stronger as time goes on," said the
lady gently.

"Yes, we think her a little stronger. Indeed we think there is a
decided change for the better since spring opened. She is able to stand
now, and even to walk a little in the garden. But she is very frail
still, our poor little girl," said the mother with a sigh.

"What has helped her, do you think?"

"Nature, it must be, and Allison Bain. The doctor has done nothing for
her for more than a year, but even he acknowledges that there is a
change for the better, though he does not give us much reason to hope
that she will ever be very strong."

"It is God's will," said Mrs Esselmont with a sigh.

"We can only wait and see what God will send her. As it is, she is a
blessing in the house."

"Yes. Still with your large family and your many cares, she must be a
constant anxiety to you both night and day."

"Well, we get used with even care and anxiety. And she is a happy
little creature naturally. Allison has helped us greatly with her. She
is very kind and sensible in all her ways of doing for her."

"And who is Allison?"

It was on Mrs Hume's lips to say, "We do not know who she is," but she
did not say it.

"She came to fill Kirstin's place. Poor Kirstin was called home to
nurse her mother, who is lingering still, though she was supposed to be
dying when her daughter was sent for."

And then Mrs Hume went on to speak of something else.

Allison was "coming to herself," growing "like other folk," only bonnier
and better than most. There was no need to call attention to her as in
any way different from the rest. Allison had been good to Marjorie, and
Marjorie was fond of Allison. That was all that need be said even to
Mrs Esselmont. But the lady and Allison were good friends before all
was done.

For many of Mrs Esselmont's lonely days were brightened by the visits
of the child Marjorie. And though the pony carriage was sometimes sent
for her, and though she enjoyed greatly the honour and glory of driving
away from the door in the sight of all the bairns who gathered in the
street t