little feet all the beautiful tender flower-beds; all the time
weeping, and moaning softly: "Poor Cousin Evelina! poor Cousin
Evelina! Oh, forgive me, poor Cousin Evelina!"

And at dawn the garden lay in ruin, for all the tender plants she had
torn up by the roots and trampled down, and all the stronger-rooted
shrubs she had striven to kill with boiling water and salt.

Then Evelina went into the house, and made herself tidy as well as
she could when she trembled so, and put her little shawl over her
head, and went down the road to the Merriams' house. It was so early
the village was scarcely astir, but there was smoke coming out of the
kitchen chimney at the Merriams'; and when she knocked, Mrs. Merriam
opened the door at once, and stared at her.

"Is Sarah Judd dead?" she cried; for her first thought was that
something must have happened when she saw the girl standing there
with her wild pale face.

"I want to see the minister," said Evelina, faintly, and she looked
at Thomas's mother with piteous eyes.

"Be you sick?" asked Mrs. Merriam. She laid a hard hand on the girl's
arm, and led her into the sitting-room, and put her into the
rocking-chair with the feather cushion. "You look real poorly," said
she. "Sha'n't I get you a little of my elderberry wine?"

"I want to see him," said Evelina, and she almost sobbed.

"I'll go right and speak to him," said Mrs. Merriam. "He's up, I