of grief and shame that touched Edith's feelings. Her pity was expressed
in her countenance, and Telie, reading the gentle sympathy infused into
every lovely feature, bent over the hand she had clasped, and touched it
with her lips.

"I have told you the truth," she said, mournfully: "one like me should
not be ashamed to be a servant. And so, lady, if you will take me, I will
go with you and serve you; and poor and ignorant as I am, I _can_ serve
you,--yes, ma'am," she added, eagerly, "I can serve you more and better
than you think,--indeed, indeed I can."

"Alas, poor child," said Edith, "I am one who must learn to do without
attendance and service. I have no home to give you."

"I have heard it all," said Telie; "but I can live in the woods with you,
till you have a house; and then I can work for you, and you'll never
regret taking me,--no, indeed, for I know all that's to be done by a
woman in a new land, and you don't; and, indeed, if you have none to help
you, it would kill you, it would indeed: for it is a hard, hard time in
the woods, for a woman that has been brought up tenderly."

"Alas, child," said Edith, perhaps a little pettishly, for she liked not
to dwell upon such gloomy anticipations, "why should you be discontented
with the home you have already? Surely, there are none here unkind to
you?"

"No," replied the maiden, "they are very good to me, and Mr. Bruce has
been a father to me. But then I am _not_ his child, and it is wrong of me
to live upon him, who has so many children of his own. And then my
father--all talk of my father; all the people here hate him, though he