Shane looked at her for a moment, and then decided to obey
the haughty command he had received. He went to work with more energy
than he had before displayed, and began to move the furniture back into
the house, greatly to the surprise and delight, no doubt, of the
grief-stricken mother.

Fanny counted out a hundred dollars from the stolen bills in her
pocket, and returned to the house. Mr. O'Shane had by this time
completed his work, and was awaiting the result.

"They be all put back, miss," said he, doubtfully.

"There is your money," replied Fanny, proudly.

Mr. O'Shane's eyes opened, and he fixed them with a gloating stare upon
the bills. He counted them; there was a hundred dollars.

"God bless you, miss, for a saint as ye are!" ejaculated he, as he put
the money in his pocket. "Ye saved me from doing the worst thing I ever
did in me life. I'll send the receipt to Mrs. Kent to-day;" and he
walked away towards his own house.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE SICK GIRL.

The last part of the interview between Fanny and Mr. O'Shane had been
witnessed by Mrs. Kent, who came out of the house when she had attended
to the wants of her sick child. The dark cloud which menaced her a few
moments before had rolled away, and, if the sunshine did not beam upon
her, she was comparatively happy in having one trouble less to weigh
her down. She was calm now, but the tears--they were tears of
relief--still rolled down her wan and furrowed cheek.

"I have prayed for help, and help has come," said she to her deliverer,
as the harsh landlord walked away.

Fanny could not make any reply to a statement of this kind. She was a
fugitive and a wanderer; she was a thief, shunning the gaze of men, and
she could not conceive of such a thing as that she had been sent as an
angel of relief to the poor woman in answer to her prayers. As she
thought what she was and what she had been doing, a blush of shame
suffused her cheek. She was silent; there was nothing which she could
say at such a moment.

"Heaven will bless you for your good, kind heart. You are an angel,"
continued Mrs. Kent.

Fanny knew how far she was from being an angel, and she had no heart
for deceiving the poor woman. It might be fun and excitement to deceive
the people at Woodville, but Mrs. Kent seemed to be sanctified by her
sorrows.

"I hope you haven't robbed yourself by your good deed, miss," added the
poor woman, wondering why Fanny did not speak.

"O, no! I