Gertrude ran lightly in with a laugh and jest, Elsie following close at
her heels.

The girl rose and setting out two unpainted wooden chairs, invited them to
be seated, remarking as she resumed her work, that the shower had come up
very suddenly, but she hoped they were not wet.

"Not enough to hurt us," said Gertrude.

"Hardly at all, thank you," I said Elsie. "I hope our mammas will not be
alarmed about us, Gerty."

"I don't think they need be so long as there's no thunder and lightning,"
answered Gertrude. "Ah, see how it is pouring over yonder on the mountain,
Elsie!"

The pale face of the woman in the rocking-chair, evidently an invalid, had
grown still paler and her features worked with emotion.

"Child! child!" she cried, fixing her wild eyes on Elsie, "who--who are
you?"

"They're the young ladies from the Crags, mother," said the girl
soothingly.

"I know that, Sally," she answered peevishly, "but one's a visitor, and
the other one called her Elsie, she's just the age and very image
of--child, what is your family name?"

"Travilla, madam," the little girl replied, with a look of surprise.