up unrestrainedly to the enjoyment of the occasion, and was more natural and free from what Alick called “airs” than she had been at any time during her visit.  But the party were quite unconscious that they were watched, through the thickly drooping boughs of a large hickory, by a pair of bright, dark eyes, which were wistfully regarding them.  The eyes were those of Nelly Connor, who, having been unexpectedly left free that afternoon to follow her own devices, had wandered away in the direction of the spot which had so fascinated her on Sunday.

When the tea was fairly over, and cups, dishes, and other paraphernalia were being packed up by Mrs. Steele and the girls, Stella, who, not being inclined to assist in such a menial occupation, was wandering aimlessly about, made a discovery.

“Oh, Lucy,” she exclaimed, coming hurriedly up to her, “there is such a ragged, bold-looking little girl sitting over there!  She has been watching us the whole time.”

“Well, her watching wouldn’t hurt us,” said Lucy, smiling at her cousin’s consternation.  “I hope she was pleased with what she saw.  Why, it’s Nelly Connor!” she added as the little girl emerged from her hiding-place.  “What can have brought her here?  I’ll get Aunt Mary to give her something to eat.  I daresay she’s hungry enough, for Miss Preston told me she didn’t think her new mother gave her enough to eat.”

“I think she ought to be scolded and sent away,” said Stella decidedly.  “You are just encouraging her impertinence in coming here to watch us.”

But Lucy had already run off to her aunt, and was soon carrying a plate heaped with good things to the astonished Nelly, who, frightened at being discovered, and at Stella’s frowning looks, was thinking how she might make good her escape.  Stella had only spoken as she had been accustomed to hear those around her speak.  She had been brought up to look upon poverty and rags as something almost wicked in themselves, and had never realized that feelings the same as her own might lie under an exterior she despised.  She had never been taught the meaning of “I was a hungered, and ye gave me meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink.”  Lucy, on the contrary, had been taught to consider it the highest privilege and gratification to impart a share of the bounties bestowed upon herself to the poor and needy whom our Saviour has left as a legacy to His followers, and had already tasted the happiness of lightening somewhat the load of poverty and hardship which press upon some during all their lives.

She soon reassured Nelly, and had the satisfaction of seeing her enjoy the food with the zest of one to whom such delicacies were rare indeed, and whose appetite was very seldom fully satisfied at home.  She explained to the rest that Nelly was in her class at Sunday school; and Stella mentally put it down as another objection to going there, that it involved the possibility of such undesirable acquaintanceships.  Alick was much interested in the little wanderer; and even after the rest had set off towards the farmhouse, which they were to visit before returning, he remained beside her, drawing from her, bit by bit, her touching history, until she began to remember how late it was, and started homeward, much astonished and cheered by the kindness and sympathy she had met with.