his opinion of her at once.

'The biggest heiress in the county except my Ann 'Liza, and, by gum, I'm
glad on't for her and Arthur. I allus said she was hisen, and by George,
to think that I helped her into her fortin, for if I hadn't of knocked
that rotten old table down she'd of never found them memoirs,' he said
to the first person to whom he communicated the news, and then hurried
off to buttonhole and enlighten others, until everybody knew and was
discussing the strange story.

Before noon scores of people had found it in their way to walk past the
cottage, hoping to catch sight of Jerrie, while several went in and told
her how glad they were for her and Mr. Arthur, and looked at her with
wondering eyes as if she were not quite the same girl they had known as
Jerrie Crawford.

When, the previous night, Mrs. Crawford had listened to the story Jerrie
told her after her return from the Park House, she had been for a few
moments stupefied with amazement, and had sat motionless on her chair
until she felt Jerrie's soft hands upon her head smoothing her silvery
hair, and Jerrie's voice said to her:

'Dear grandma, I told you your working days were over, and they are, for
what is mine is yours and Harold's, and my home is your home always, so
long as you live.'

The poor old lady put her head upon Jerrie's arm and cried hysterically
for a moment; then she rallied, and brushing away her tears, kissed the
young girl who had been so much to her, and whom for a brief moment she
feared she might have lost. Far into the night they sat, talking of the
past and the future, and of Harold, who was in Tacoma, where he might
have to remain for three or four weeks longer. He had written several
times to his grandmother and once to Jerrie, but had made no mention of
the diamonds, while in her letters to him Mrs. Crawford had refrained
from telling him what some of the people were saying, and the
construction they were putting upon his absence. Jerrie had not yet
written to him, but, 'I shall to-morrow,' she said, 'and tell him to
hurry home, for I need him now, if ever.'

Jerrie was very tired when she went at last to bed, but the dreamless
sleep which came upon her, and which lasted until a late hour in the
morning, did her good, and probably saved her from a relapse, which
might have proved fatal. Still she was very pale and weak when she went
down stairs about nine o'clock and found Tom waiting for her. He had
been up since