dressed him in the morning and gave him his breakfast, always selecting
the daintiest bits for him and giving him the larger share of
everything. Together they wandered in the park, she leading him by the
hand and telling him where they were, or carrying him in her arms, when
the way was rough, and then, when she put him down, always kissing him
tenderly, while on her face there was a look of sadness pitiful to see
in one so young.

When she was seven years old, and Robin four, her mother, who had been
an invalid, ever since the birth of Geraldine, died, and that made
Lucy's burden still heavier to bear. They told her, her mother would not
live till night, and with a look on her face, such as a martyr might
wear when going to the stake, Lucy put Robin from her, and going to her
mother's room, asked to be left alone with her.

"There is something I must tell her. I cannot let her die until I do,"
she said, and so the watchers went out and left the mother and child
together.

What Lucy had to tell, no one knew; but when at the going down of the
sun, the mother was dying, Lucy's head was upon her neck, and so long as
life remained, the pale hand smoothed the dark tresses of the sobbing
girl, and the white lips whispered, softly:

"God bless my little Lucy, He knows it all. He can forgive all. Try to
be happy, and never forsake poor Robbie."

"Never, mother, never," was Lucy's reply, and she kept the vow to the
letter, becoming mother, sister, nurse, and teacher all in one, to the
little blind Robin, who loved her in return with all the intensity of