"Is it from your aunt Olivia?" she asked, anxiously.

"No," Rebecca Mary said, in slow surprise. "The writing isn't,
anyway, and the name is another one--"

"Oh! Oh! Maybe she's got mar--"

"Rhoda!" cautioned the minister.

This is the letter Rebecca Mary read:

"Dear Rebecca Mary,--You see I know your name from your aunt. She
talked about you all the time, but I am writing you of my own
accord. She does not know it. I think you will like to know that
at last we are feeling very hopeful about your aunt. We have been
very anxious since the operation, she had so little strength to
rally with. But now if she keeps on as well as this you will have
her home again in a little while. The doctors say three weeks.
She is the patientest patient in the ward.
Yours very truly,
Sara Ellen Nesbitt, Nurse"
Ward A, Emmons Hospital

That was the letter. Rebecca Mary's face grew a little whiter at
every line of it. At every line understanding grew clearer, till
at the end she knew it all. She gave a little cry, and ran out of
the room. Love and remorse and sympathy fought for first place in
her laboring little breast. In the next few minutes she lived so
long a time and thought so many thoughts! But above everything