blushes, and hiding her face in her hands she sank down in her chair
overwhelmed.

Hannah watched, and then went to her, and began to caress her, saying:

"Nora, Nora, dear; Nora, love; Nora, my own darling, look up!"

"Don't speak to me; I am glad he does not come; never mention his name
to me again, Hannah," said the stricken girl, in a low, peremptory
whisper.

Hannah felt that this order must be obeyed, and so she went back to her
loom and worked on in silence.

After a few minutes Nora arose and resumed her spinning, and for some
time the wheel whirled briskly and merrily around. But towards the
middle of the day it began to turn slowly and still more slowly.

At length it stopped entirely, and the spinner said:

"Hannah, I feel very tired; would you mind if I should lay down a little
while?"

"No, certainly not, my darling. Are you poorly, Nora?"

"No, I am quite well, only tired," replied the girl, as she threw
herself upon the bed.

Perhaps Hannah had made a fatal mistake in saying to her sister, "He
will never come again," and so depriving her of the last frail plank of