Henry, and it was but lip service. If he had lived----"
Lois Henry had interrupted with an energetic protest in her voice, but
now she leaned her head on the door post and looked as if she might
collapse utterly.

"Mother, thou art too ill to be sitting up. Let me help thee to bed, and
then I must go look for the child."

He lifted her in his strong young arms and, carrying her through, laid
her on the bed beside her husband.

"I am very ill," she moaned, and indeed she looked so. All her strength
seemed to have gone out of her.

"I heard high words about the child. Hath she proved refractory? Madam
Wetherill and the houseful of servants have no doubt spoiled her. It is
God's mercy that there may be seasons of bringing her back to reasonable
life."

"Do not trouble about the little girl. To-day I think the doctor will be
here to examine thy leg, and I am sure my mother needs him. I am afraid
it is a grave matter."

"My poor wife! And I am a helpless burden on thee! I am afraid I have
demanded too much."

"The Lord will care for us," she made answer brokenly.

After giving some charges to Rachel, Andrew walked down the path that
led to the road. Was Primrose afraid of punishment, and had Rachel said
more to her than she was willing to own? This was no place for her,
Andrew said to himself manfully. And if his mother was to be ill----

He changed his steps and went to the barn. Would Rover remember the
little girl of last summer? He raised the clumsy wooden latch.

"Come, Rover," he said cheerily. "Come, we must go and find Primrose. I
wonder if thou hast forgotten her?"

Rover sprang out and made a wide, frolicsome detour. Then he came back
to his master and listened attentively, looked puzzled, and started off
again down the road, but returned with a sort of dissatisfaction in his
big brown eyes.

"The orchard, perhaps. We might look there first. She was such a
venturesome, climbing little thing last year."

Rover ran about snuffling, and started off at a rapid rate, giving a
series of short, exultant barks as he bounded to his master.

"Good Rover!" patting the shaggy creature, who sprang up to his shoulder
in joy.

Primrose was still asleep. The winds had kissed with fragrant touches,
the birds had sung to her, the bees had crooned, and the early summer
insects ventured upon faint chirps, as if they hardly knew whether they
might be allowed to mar the radiant summer day. How divinely beautiful
it