ill let her get one more good night's rest. Then
to-morrow, when she is refreshed and strengthened by her sleep she can
learn it all."

The lawyer held out his hand. "This has been one of the hardest trials
of my life," he said. "But you have helped me by your bravery and
fortitude. I thank you from my heart. Good night!" and in a moment he
was gone.

That evening Miss Blake bade Delia take Nan to the Andrews'. She wrote
a short note to Ruth's mother in which she begged her to keep the girl
through the evening and make her as happy as she could. She briefly
stated the reason for her request.

Nan knew that something was being kept from her but she never suspected
what. She fancied it must be connected with Miss Blake's private
affairs, and she asked no questions. When she reached the Andrews' her
exuberant spirits reasserted themselves and she spent a gay evening
with Ruth, Mrs. Andrews leading in the fun and seeing that no one
passed a dull moment. They played all sorts of games, and then finally
Bridget appeared with the crowning delight, a tray upon which a
tempting array of good things was set forth. How Nan enjoyed it! She
often thought afterward what a happy evening it was. At ten o'clock
Delia called for her and she went home through the still night,
thinking all sorts of merry thoughts. Miss Blake listened with
apparent interest to her description of her evening's jollification,
and when she had finished gave her an especially tender good-night
kiss, saying:

"God bless you, my Nan. Sleep well, dear, and let us both pray for
strength to bear God's will."

The next morning after breakfast Nan discovered why Miss Blake had bade
her especially to pray for strength.

Poor child! She felt so utterly weak and helpless in her misery. At
first she could scarcely realize what had befallen her and she kept
insisting, "It isn't my father that has died. It is some one else.
How can I feel that he isn't alive? He can't be dead! He isn't! He
isn't! Why, only yesterday I was expecting he would soon be home.
It's some other man who hasn't got a daughter that loves him so."

But by and by she grew desperate in her wretchedness and then it took
all Miss Blake's influence to restrain her from really wearing herself
out in the abandon of her grief.

But by evening the house was quiet. Nan's loud sobbing had ceased and
she lay quite still and exhausted, stretched upon the divan in Miss
Blake's room,