hine and
wended her way slowly towards the shore, the words ringing in her ears
with that low wail of intense pain--"How shall I live through the long,
long years?"

Poor Winnie! her fears were but too well grounded. No hope was
entertained of her ever being able to leave her couch again.

When the kind-hearted doctor had broken the news to the sorrowing
family, almost the first thought of each was, How would she bear it?
How would she, the little restless sprite, always flitting about here
and there, endure perhaps a long life of crippled helplessness? And
oh! how were they to tell her of the sad future, stretching far into
the coming years? It was all very well to waive her questions in the
meantime, but that could not be done much longer. Already the child
seemed listening to each word with a haunting sense of fear; and now
that they had taken her from the busy town to their quiet sea-side
home, where summer after summer she had danced about in innocent glee,
the dread deepened as the days went by and she felt no sign of
returning strength to her feeble frame. There was no need to tell the
sad tidings after all, however--she had found out for herself; and the
necessary part now was to teach her how to live bravely and cheerfully
through the long, long years.

Edith's thoughts were very dreary as she walked quietly through the
little sea-side village, and saw the happy, sun-kissed children, full
of health and strength, playing on the sandy shore, and shouting their
lusty laughter to each other, while one who would have joined so
heartily in their merriment was lying pale and weary on a lonely couch
of pain. The little wistful face and tired eyes kept ever rising up
before her, while the words rang continually in her ears,--"How shall I
live through the long, long years?"

With a quick impatient movement she drew out her watch, and noting the
hour, saw that the mail had been due some little time ago, and letters
would be lying at the small post-office. Entering the little shop, she
found another occupant besides herself preparing to receive a small
budget of papers from the shopwoman's hands.

"No letters to-day, Miss Latimer; only these papers," the girl was
saying as Edith stepped towards the counter.--"Good-morning, Miss
Blake; we are glad to see you amongst us again."

The lady started at Edith's name, and turning, looked earnestly at the
graceful figure from under the brim of a shady hat--a gaze whic