sins of omission and commission? Had I poured out the love--bountiful,
disinterested, long-suffering--of which God shows us the measure and
fullness? Had I--But the sun dropped lower and lower behind the dull
brown hills, and exhausted nature found a momentary forgetfulness in
sleep.




CHAPTER II.

PATSY COMES TO CALL.

"When a'ither bairnies are hushed to their hame
By aunty, or cousin, or frecky grand-dame,
Wha stands last and lanely, an' naebody carin'?
'Tis the puir doited loonie,--the mitherless bairn!"


Suddenly I was awakened by a subdued and apologetic cough. Starting from
my nap, I sat bolt upright in astonishment, for quietly ensconced in a
small red chair by my table, and sitting still as a mouse, was the
weirdest apparition ever seen in human form. A boy, seeming--how many
years old shall I say? for in some ways he might have been a century old
when he was born--looking, in fact, as if he had never been young, and
would never grow older. He had a shrunken, somewhat deformed body, a
curious, melancholy face, and such a head of dust-colored hair that he
might have been shocked for a door-mat. The sole redeemers of the
countenance were two big, pathetic, soft dark eyes, so appealing that
one could hardly meet their glance without feeling instinctively in