storm? Tell me,--there is something--tell me, woman!"

"He took no shelter. Would to God he had!"

"O! would to God! would to God!" shrieked out Eleanor, learning all
from the woful import of those dreary eyes. Her cries thrilled
through the house; the children's piping wailings and passionate
cries on "Daddy! Daddy!" pierced into Susan's very marrow. But she
remained as still and tearless as the great round face upon the
clock.

At last, in a lull of crying, she said,--not exactly questioning, but
as if partly to herself -

"You loved him, then?"

"Loved him! he was my husband! He was the father of three bonny
bairns that lie dead in Grasmere churchyard. I wish you'd go, Susan
Dixon, and let me weep without your watching me! I wish you'd never
come near the place."

"Alas! alas! it would not have brought him to life. I would have
laid down my own to save his. My life has been so very sad! No one
would have cared if I had died. Alas! alas!"

The tone in which she said this was so utterly mournful and
despairing that it awed Nelly into quiet for a time. But by-and-by
she said, "I would not turn a dog out to do it harm; but the night is
clear, and Tommy shall guide you to the Red Cow. But, oh, I want to
be alone! If you'll come back to-morrow, I'll be better, and I'll