ne of the reservoirs which
supply New York city with water.

Violet had been unusually happy all the week; her pleasant life, the
kind care and attention so constantly thrown around her, all contributed
to make the world seem a very delightful place once more, even though
its chief joy and light for her had been removed.

She and Bertha had been in an unusually gay mood for them, and Mr.
Lawrence thought he had never seen Miss Huntington look so pretty and
appear so charming.

Her musical laugh, her ready repartee, her bright and animated
countenance, amused and cheered him, making him feel younger by a score
of years than he really was.

They rode about the reservoir, over the broad smooth drives for a while,
and then Bertha begged that they might get out and walk about, for she
wanted to get nearer the water.

Mr. Lawrence, always willing to indulge her, acceded to her request, and
all three alighting, he told the coachman to drive slowly about until he
should signal for him.

Then they spent half an hour or more strolling along the water's edge,
to Bertha's great enjoyment, after which Violet expressed a wish to see
the inside of the gatehouse, for she had never had an opportunity to
visit one.

They proceeded thither, it being quite near, and, Mr. Lawrence having
obtained permission of the keeper, they went in to view the huge vaults,
together with the massive engine, by which the engineer controlled the
waters which swept with such ceaseless roar through the caverns below
and on toward their various channels in the city.

They all became very much interested in watching the ponderous
machinery, and there was a strange fascination in the endless hurry and
rush of the water beneath them.

But all at once, nobody could ever tell afterward how it happened,
Bertha made a misstep, and would have fallen beneath the railing and in
among the machinery had not Violet darted forward, seized her by her
clothing, and drawn her quickly out of harm's way. In doing so, however,
she herself fell, or was thrown, with great force against the railing,
and when Mr. Lawrence led them both farther away, she was very pale and
quivering from head to foot, from mingled pain and fright.

"Are you hurt, Bertha?" she asked, bending over the weeping girl, who
had been terribly startled by the accident.

"I guess not, but--oh! my heart beats so I cannot breathe," she panted,
in reply.

"I am very glad--I--was--afraid----"

Viol