e tree and with sudden abandonment she
pushed her letter into it.

"There!" she panted; "and I'll put my answers in it, too, and give them
all to Sandy when he comes up The Way."

But hunger and recent trouble laid restraining hands upon the girl at
that moment. She sank down and shivered nervously. Between this
moment and the one of Sandy's return stretched a dreary space, and how
was she to keep her heart light and meet the dreary problems that
confronted her? Winter was at hand; the wood pile had been swept from
the door, and there were only a few dollars in the cracked teapot. Old
Ivy's body, rescued a week after the flood, was buried from sight in
the Walden "plot," and Ann Walden was greatly changed. Cynthia did not
understand, but she was terribly afraid. Ann Walden laughed a great
deal, slyly and cunningly. She never mentioned Ivy except to question
where she had gone. The mistress of the Great House, too, took to
pacing the upper balcony and repeating over and over:

"The hills--whence cometh my strength!"

It was quite fearful, but Cynthia had already learned to keep away from
her aunt at moments of excitement; her presence always made matters
worse. And once, soon after her return, Marcia Lowe had ventured to
call at Stoneledge, but the outcome of her visit had been so deplorable
that the little doctor was driven to despair. She had knocked at the
outer door, which stood ajar, and, receiving no reply, had walked into
the hall and to the library. There sat Ann Walden just as Miss Lowe
had left her on the fateful afternoon of the letter. When Miss Walden
raised her eyes to her unannounced caller a madness, with strange
flashes of lucidity, overcame her.

"Out!" she shouted--"it was all a lie--there never was a marriage!
Never! Would you kill me and the child? Leave us alone. We will not
take the money or the shame! Leave me! leave me!"

Then running to the far corner of the fireplace she sank upon the floor
and with outstretched hands she moaned:

"He killed her! killed her! and I damned her; leave us alone!"

At that point Cynthia rushed into the room and caught the poor, old,
shrinking form in her arms; then, with flashing eyes she turned upon
Marcia Lowe.

"Go!" she commanded with sudden courage and desperation. "Go! Don't
you hear Aunt Ann?"

"You promised, little Cyn!" whined Miss Walden, "you promised!"

"I know--all about it!" Cynthia murmured, still keeping her fear-filled