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I haven't looked at it for many a day; I can hardly bear to look at it now, for I shall never see her again never, darling! What's that, Rosalie? she said fearfully, covering the locket with her apron, as some one passed the caravan. 'It's only some men strolling through the fair, mammie dear, said Rosalie.
The company cheered her, and she sang another, and yet another. Finally she began My Mammie, but floundered, broke down, and cried. "Rehearsal, ten in the morning," said Betty. Then everybody laughed, and while Drake busied himself putting Glory's cloak on her shoulders, he whispered: "What's to do, dear? A bit off colour to-night, eh?"
'We're half-way to the town, mammie out on a moor; and that's Britannia! 'What do you mean? asked her mother. 'It's the girl we saw riding on that gilt car in Lesborough, and she has run away, she was so miserable there. And then Rosalie told her mother the sad story she had just heard. 'Poor thing! poor young thing! said the sick woman.
"After the War was over mammie's old man did not want us with them, so he threatened to kill us. Then my old mammie fixed us a little bundle of what few clothes we had and started us two children out to go back to the Campbell family in Albany. The road was just a wilderness and full of wild animals and varmints.
Rosalie stood at the caravan door, watching the bright stars coming out one by one in the still sky. 'Mammie dear, she said, 'is He up there? 'Who, Rosalie, child? said her mother. 'The Saviour; is He up in one of the stars? 'Yes; heaven's somewhere there, Rosalie; up above the sky somewhere. 'Would it be any good telling Him, mammie? 'Telling Him what, my dear?
'Yes, mammie, she said; 'my father's coming. 'Then mind, not a word, said her mother, in a hoarse whisper. 'Well, said Augustus, entering the caravan in a theatrical manner, 'I thought I might as well enjoy the felicity of the amiable society of my lady and her daughter! This was said with a profound bow towards his wife and Rosalie. 'Glad to see you so much better, madam, he continued.
In the first parcel was a little pair of blue shoes, with a tiny red sock. 'Those were my little Arthur's, Rosalie, said her mother, with tears in her eyes; 'I put them away the day he was buried, and I've never liked to part with them. No one will care for them when I'm gone, though, said she, with a sigh. 'Oh, mammie dear, said Rosalie, 'don't talk so!
Another woman who mourned for the lost Susie she could never see, but for whom she kept a little room all warm and bright. Cecile pictured over and over how tenderly she would tell this poor, wandering girl of the love waiting for her, and longing for her, and of how she herself would bring her back to Mammie Moseley.
From this she took two pins, and fastened the picture on the wooden wall, so that her mother could see it as she was lying in bed. 'It does look pretty there, said the little girl; 'mammie, you can look at it nicely now. 'Yes, ma'am, said the old man, as he prepared to take his leave; 'and as you look at it, think of that Good Shepherd who is seeking you.
'Just before my mammie died, she gave me that locket, and she said, if ever I had an opportunity, I was to go to my Aunt Lucy. She wrote a letter for me to take with me, to say who I am, and to ask my Aunt Lucy to be kind to me. 'Here's the letter, said the child, taking it out of the parcel; 'that's my mammie's writing. "MRS. LESLIE, Melton Parsonage." Didn't she write beautifully?
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