the would say when it was given back to them she it did old she was true to it and while she lived she would never let it be disgraced by falling into the hands of those that she held in horror most and light headed this but travellers in the valley of the shadow of death are apt to be light headed and worn out old people of low estate have a of reasoning as in differently as they live and doubtless would appreciate our poor law more on an income of ten a year so keeping to and human approach this troublesome old woman hid herself and on all the dreary day yet so unlike was she to in general that sometimes as the day advanced there was a bright fire in her eyes and a quicker beating at her feeble heart as though she said the lord will see me through it t by what hands she was led along upon that journey of escape from the by what voices hushed in the she seemed to be addressed how she the dead child in her arms again and times innumerable adjusted her shawl to keep it warm what infinite variety of of tower and roof and the trees took how many furious rode at her crying th re she goes i stop stop i and melted as the came dose be these things on and hiding hiding and on the poor harmless creature as though she were a and the whole country were up after her wore out tiie day and gained the night � water meadows or such like she had sometimes murmured on ihe day s when she had raised her head and taken any note the real objects about her there now arose in the darkness a great building foil of lighted smoke waa from a nigh chimney in the rear of it and there was the sound of a at the side between her and the lay a piece of water in which the lighted windows were reflected and on its margin was a plantation of trees i thank the power and the glory said holding np her withered hands that i have come to my journey s end she among the trees to the trunk of a tree whence she see beyond some trees and branches the lighted windows both in their reality and their reflection in the water she placed her orderly little basket at her side and sank upon the herself against the tree it brought to her mind the of tne cross and she committed herself to him who died upon it her strength held out to enable her to arrange the letter in her breast so as that it could be seen that she had a paper there it had held out for this and it departed when this was done i am safe here was her last thought when i am found dead at the foot of the cross it will be by some of my own sort some of the working people who work among the lights yonder i cannot see the lighted windows now but they are there i am for all the darkness gone and a ce bending down it cannot be the lady i don t understand what you say let me wet your lips i with this brandy i hare been away to fetch it did yon think that i was long gone it is as the � ace of a woman shaded by a quantity of rich dark hair it is the earnest face of a woman who is young and but all is over with me on earth and this must be an angel have i been dead i don t understand what you say let me wet your lips again i hurried all i could and brought no one back with me lest yoa should die of the shock of strangers am i not dead i cannot understand what you say your is so low and broken that i cannot hear you do you hear me t yes do you moan yes yes i was coming from my work just now alone the path i was up with the night hands last night and i heard a groan and you lying here what did you ask what work at the paper mill where is it your oe is turned up to the sky and you can t see it it is dose by you can see my face here between you and the sky i lift you not yet mutual s not even lift your head to get it on m ana i will do it by veiy gentle degrees yon shall hardly feel it not yet paper letter this paper in your breast bless ye let me wet your lips again am i to open it to read it bless ye she reads it with surprise and looks down with a new and an added interest on the motionless oe she beside i know these names i have heard them often will you send it my dear i cannot understand you let me wet your lips again and your id there poor thing poor thing i these words through her tears what was it that you asked me wait till i bring my ear quite dose will you send it my dear will i send it to the writers is that your wish yes certainly not give it up to any one but them na as you must grow in time come to your dying hour my dear you ll not give it up to any one but them no most solemnly never to the parish with a struggle no most solemnly nor let the parish touch me nor yet so much as look at me with another struggle na faithfully a look of and triumph lights the worn old the eyes which have been darkly fixed upon 