r below. Its murmur recalled the whisper
of the ocean waves. And through the depths it seemed as if she saw into
that strange, half--remembered world of palm-trees and white robes and
dusky faces, and amidst them, looking upon her with ineffable love and
tenderness, until all else faded from her sight, the face of a fair
woman,--was it hers, so long, long dead, or that dear young mother's who
was to her less a recollection than a dream?

Could it have been this vision that soothed her, so that she unclasped
her hands and lifted her bowed head as if she had heard a voice
whispering to her from that unknown world where she felt there was a
spirit watching over her? At any rate, her face was never more serene
than when she went to meeting with the two maiden ladies on the
following day, Sunday, and heard the Rev. Mr. Stoker preach a sermon
from Luke vii. 48, which made both the women shed tears, but especially
so excited Miss Cynthia that she was in a kind of half-hysteric
condition all the rest of the day.

After that Myrtle was quieter and more docile than ever before. Could it
be, Miss Silence thought, that the Rev. Mr. Stoker's sermon had touched
her hard heart? However that was, she did not once wear the stormy look
with which she had often met the complaining remonstrances Miss Silence
constantly directed against all the spontaneous movements of the
youthful and naturally vivacious subject of her discipline.

June is an uncertain month, as everybody knows, and there were frosts
in many parts of New England in the June of 1859. But there were also
beautiful days and nights, and the sun was warm enough to be fast
ripening the strawberries,--also certain plans which had been in flower
some little time. Some preparations had been going on in a quiet way, so
that at the right moment a decisive movement could be made. Myrtle knew
how to use her needle, and always had a dexterous way of shaping
any article of dress or ornament,--a natural gift not very rare, but
sometimes very needful, as it was now.

On the morning of the 15th of June she was wandering by the shores of
the river, some distance above The Poplars, when a boat came drifting
along by her, evidently broken loose from its fastenings farther up
the stream. It was common for such waifs to show themselves after heavy
rains had swollen the river. They might have run the gauntlet of nobody
could tell how many farms, and perhaps passed by half a dozen towns
and vi