and brought a jerkin she was making for
little Gerard, and there she sat all day, working, and watching with
dogged patience.

At four o'clock the birds began to feed; and a great many of the smaller
kinds came fluttering round the cave, and one or two went in. But most
of them, taking a preliminary seat on the bushes, suddenly discovered
Margaret, and went off with an agitated flirt of their little wings. And
although they sailed about in the air, they would not enter the cave.
Presently, to encourage them, the hermit, all unconscious of the cause
of their tremors, put out a thin white hand with a few crumbs in it,
Margaret laid down her work softly, and gliding her body forward like a
snake, looked down at it from above; it was but a few feet from her. It
was as the woman described it, a thin, white hand.

Presently the other hand came out with a piece of bread, and the two
hands together broke it and scattered the crumbs.

But that other hand had hardly been out two seconds ere the violet eyes
that were watching above dilated; and the gentle bosom heaved, and the
whole frame quivered like a leaf in the wind.

What her swift eye had seen I leave the reader to guess. She suppressed
the scream that rose to her lips, but the effort cost her dear. Soon the
left hand of the hermit began to swim indistinctly before her gloating
eyes; and with a deep sigh her head drooped, and she lay like a broken
lily.

She was in a deep swoon, to which perhaps her long fast to-day and the
agitation and sleeplessness of many preceding days contributed.

And there lay beauty, intelligence, and constancy, pale and silent, And
little that hermit guessed who was so near him. The little birds hopped
on her now, and one nearly entangled his little feet in her rich auburn
hair.

She came back to her troubles. The sun was set. She was very cold, She
cried a little, but I think it was partly from the remains of physical
weakness. And then she went home, praying God and the saints to
enlighten her and teach her what to do for the best.

When she got home she was pale and hysterical, and would say nothing in
answer to all their questions but her favourite word, "We are wading in
deep waters."

The night seemed to have done wonders for her.

She came to Catherine, who was sitting sighing by the fireside, and
kissed her, and said--

"Mother, what would you like best in the world?"

"Eh, dear," replied Catherine despondently, "I know noug