h, think of it, Nurse Lucy! It is too dreadful. Tell me how
it happened."

"Don't ask me, my dear!" said Dame Hartley, sadly. "Why should you hear
anything so painful? It would only haunt your mind as it haunted mine
for years after. The worst of it was, there was no need of it. Her
mother was a young, flighty, careless girl, and she didn't look after
her baby as she should have done. That is all you need know, Hilda, my
dear! Poor Susan Chirk! it took the flightiness out of her, and made her
the anxious, melancholy soul she has been ever since. Then Bubble was
born, and soon after her husband died, and since then she has had a hard
time to fend for herself. But Pink has never been any trouble to her,
only a help and a comfort; and her neighbors have done what they could
from time to time."

Dame Hartley might have said that she and her husband had kept this
desolate widow and her children from starvation through many a long
winter, and had given her the means of earning her daily bread in
summer; had clothed the children, and provided comforts for the crippled
girl. But this was not Nurse Lucy's way. The neighbors had done what
they could, she said; and now Bubble was earning good wages for a boy,
and was sure to get on well, being bright and industrious; and Mrs.
Chirk took in weaving to do for the neighbors, and went out sometimes to
work by the day; and so they were really getting on very well,--better
than one could have hoped.

Hildegarde laid her head against the good Dame's shoulder and fell into
a brown study. Nurse Lucy seemed also in a thoughtful mood; and so the
two sat quietly in the soft twilight till the red glow faded in the
west, and left in its stead a single star, gleaming like a living jewel
in the purple sky. All the birds were asleep save the untiring
whippoorwill, who presented his plea for the castigation of the unhappy
William with ceaseless energy. A little night-breeze came up, and said
pleasant, soft things to the leaves, which rustled gently in reply, and
the crickets gave their usual evening concert, beginning with a movement
in G sharp, _allegro con moto_. Other sound there was none, until by and
by the noise of wheels was heard, and the click of old Nancy's hoofs;
and out of the gathering darkness Farmer Hartley appeared, just returned
from the village, whither he had gone to make arrangements about selling
his hay.

"Wal, Marm Lucy," he said, cheerfully, throwing the reins on Nancy's