knitting-needles.

Jack, having put the soup where it would keep just warm, slipped out of
the room, letting the curtain at its entrance fall behind him. The sun
was touching the white bedclothes with a lingering ray. Passing softly
away, it left the room in shade which felt pleasant after the hot day.

The sick child moved. Just a faint motion of the head, a trembling of
the eyelids, and a sigh. Mrs. Wright stopped her work to look. Estelle
stirred again, slightly.

How long she had slept she did not know. She felt warm and comfortable,
but not in the least inclined to get up. It seemed to be morning, too,
for the light appeared quite bright. How weak she was! It was an effort
to open her eyes. Not even to save her life could she have raised
herself. Somebody came to her and put something in her mouth with a
spoon, but she was too tired to see who it was; so, without trying to
think, she dropped asleep once more.

When she awoke again she felt stronger, and, hearing a movement, opened
her eyes. A strange face was bending over her; a sweet face, though old,
wrinkled, and weather-beaten. Estelle stared at it in amazement. A poor
woman, evidently, but clean and tidy in her coarse blue serge dress and
white apron. A black lace cap almost concealed her grey hair, and in her
hands was a great bundle of knitting. Seeing the child was awake she
hastily put this down, and brought some broth from a little saucepan
over the fire.

'Now, my dearie, you just swallow this,' she said, 'and we shall have
you about in no time.'

So gently and cheerily did she speak that Estelle smiled, and made an
effort to lift her head to take the soup, which smelt most delicious.

'We have not come to that yet, my dear,' said the old woman, smiling.
'But it will come! it will come! You will be running about as blithe
and strong as ever, please God, in a week or two. But there's no hurry.
Lie still and rest now. You'll get up all the better for it.'

Putting her arm round the child, she held the cup to her lips with the
skill born of long practice in nursing.

'What! every drop?' she cried, as she arranged Estelle comfortably on
her pillows. 'That's something like, and better than you have done for a
very long time. Do you know that? If you go on as well as this, we shall
have you up in no time.'

'Where am I?' whispered the child; then wondered at the faint, far-away
sound of her own voice.

'With those who will care for you till you a