Her heart beat as she stood there, silently looking up at him in the
moonlight. _Was_ it lost? _What_ had it been?

But, upon a second search, he came upon something in the pocket of his
coat-tail. "Here it is, I believe; what brought it there?" He opened a
small box, and taking out a long, gold chain, threw it around her neck.
A locket was attached to it.

Her cheeks' crimson went and came; her heart beat more rapidly. She
could not speak a word of thanks; and Mr. Carlyle took up the roll, and
walked on into the presence of Mrs. Hare.

Barbara followed in a few minutes. Her mother was standing up, watching
with pleased expectation the movements of Mr. Carlyle. No candles were
in the room, but it was bright with firelight.

"Now, don't laugh at me," quoth he, untying the string of the parcel.
"It is not a roll of velvet for a dress, and it is not a roll of
parchment, conferring twenty thousand pounds a year. But it is--an air
cushion!"

It was what poor Mrs. Hare, so worn with sitting and lying, had often
longed for. She had heard such a luxury was to be bought in London,
but never remembered to have seen one. She took it almost with a greedy
hand, casting a grateful look at Mr. Carlyle.

"How am I to thank you for it?" she murmured through her tears.

"If you thank me at all, I will never bring you anything again," cried