at the thought that she was living here so well-off and at ease, while her father and mother still had such a hard life at home.  Often she thought about Nora, and wondered if she had forgotten to ask the heavenly Father to call her to himself.  She could well be spared from the earth, where no one needed her, and she longed to go.  To tell the truth, Elsli dreaded to look forward.  She did not feel at home in Mrs. Stanhope’s house; she had a constant sense of unfitness for the position; yet when she thought of going back to her parents, she knew that there she should be equally out of place.  So the poor child was living a lonely life at beautiful Rosemount, and thinking herself a useless and superfluous being on the face of the earth.

Down along the bank of the river, a narrow foot-path ran for some distance towards a thick clump of willows, in which it disappeared.  Elsli had often followed this path by herself; it was so quiet that she liked it particularly; she never met any one there, for it led only from Mrs. Stanhope’s grounds to the willows.  To-day, after Elsli had sat alone for a time, she rose and walked along this path, and gazed at the ever-moving waves as they rushed headlong toward the sea.  Sunk in thought, she came at last nearer to the willows than she had ever been before.  The bushes grew larger and higher and became real trees; from a distance they looked like a thick wood that reached far into the water.  Here was complete solitude; not a creature was to be seen, and the plash of the water below was the only sound that broke the stillness.  Suddenly a loud scream startled the air.  Elsli drew back in alarm.  Louder and louder grew the sounds of distress, now pausing, then beginning afresh.  The child, recovering her courage, hurried forward to the spot from which they came.  Behind the first low-growing clump of willows the ground was wet and swampy; and fast caught in the bog stood two children;—­a little girl, who was screaming with all her might, and a boy, who was tugging at his sister’s arm as hard as he could.  When he found that he could not pull her out he too began to cry aloud.  Elsli came to their aid, and lifted the little girl from her uncomfortable position.  The boy then slowly worked his way out, but his wooden shoes were a great encumbrance, and he moved with difficulty.  When the two children stood at last on dry land with their wet shoes and clothes soaked with muddy water, they presented a pitiable sight, and Elsli asked them sympathetically whether they were far from home, and where they lived.

The boy, who was scarcely more than six years old, evidently felt immediate confidence in Elsli.  He took her by the hand and said entreatingly:—­

“Come with us and tell mother about it!” And as he spoke he looked ruefully at his shoes and at his sister’s gown, on which the mud was rapidly drying, and which looked as if it were made of pasteboard.  The little girl, not more than four years old, taking Elsli’s other hand, said softly, “Do come with us.”