n engrossed, Sandy stole to Matilda
Markham's little sitting-room and there found the dear lady asleep
before the fire, her thin white hands sunk in a mass of beautiful
wools. He stood and looked at the quiet, peaceful old face; he
recalled, one by one, her kindnesses to him, her growing pride and love
for him, and presently his eyes grew misty. The frail creature before
him became touched by the magic of his gratitude and need, the most
vital and mighty factor in his life. She, in this hour of his hidden
craving, was the only one to whom he could turn, and right well he knew
that she would stand by him.

Suddenly Matilda Markham opened her eyes and looked directly into
Sandy's. It may have been that some dream had prepared her, God may
have spoken to her in vision; however that may be she said gently:

"Son, you need me? Come, tell me all about it."

Quite naturally Sandy sat down at her feet and looked frankly into the
dear, old face.

"I am going to ask you to do a great thing for me," he said; "I must
ask you to do it without my explaining things to you to any extent--I
want you to do it as a mother might for her son--trusting me if you
can."

"Dear boy, I think I can promise to do what you ask."

Then the thin hands found their way to the bent head, and as they
touched the thick, dark hair a thrill shot to the woman's very heart.

"Mother!" Sandy seemed inspired to meet her soul's longing. "Mother!"

"Son, go on. I am waiting."

"It--it is about the girl--Lansing Treadwell married."

"Yes."

"I must know how things are with her. Our mountain people can be so
lonely and homesick away from the hills. At times nothing, nothing can
take the place of the yearning. I--I can forget everything that has
even been, if I know she is right happy and content--but I must know!"

A fierceness struck through the low-spoken words. "The doubt is--is
killing me."

"Shall I go now, son, or wait until after the holidays?"

"Could you go now--and alone?"

"I can manage Levi, son. Travelling is real easy these days. It will
take management, but I can get what I want."

"You would understand if you saw her."

Sandy's voice trailed off forgetful of the woman at whose knees he
knelt.

"She can smile and make right merry, but you would know and understand.
She is such a pretty, sweet thing, but she has the iron of the hills in
her. She must"--again Sandy's voice shook with passion,--"she must
have happi