head.

"Gimme my parcel," she said presently, in a stronger voice. "Mercy
sakes! I'm awful weak; but I'd like ter show my little girl the things
I made for her."

The parcel was brought and untied. Gloriana touched the garments
tenderly.

"Nothin'," she murmured, "kin come closer to ye than these pretty
things, excep' the love I stitched into 'em. When you wear 'em you'll
think o' me, Miss Standish."

At the sound of her name the girl started, and looked askance at her
grandfather, who turned his head aside.

"Who is this woman!" she asked in a low voice.

The answer came from Gloriana, slowly and distinctly.

"I'm--nothin'--to--ye; but ye've bin the world an' all ter me. Well--I
said I'd never go ter my little girl, because I wasn't fit, but I
always thought that the Lord in His mercy would bring her ter me. Ye
wore the clothes I sent, an' mebbee ye wondered who made 'em. 'Twas
the happiness o' my life sewing on 'em, an' ter think you was wearin'
them. I've worked awful hard, but I kin take it easy--now. I feel reel
sleepy, too. Good-night, my pretty, good-night!"

We were quite unprepared for what happened, believing that our poor
friend was merely over-wrought and weary. But as the words "good-