day's work was done, and once a heavy sigh roused Christie from the
most exciting crisis of "The Abbot."

"What's the matter? Are you very tired, Aunty?" she asked, using the
name that came most readily to her lips.

"No, honey; I was only wishin' I could read fast like you does. I's
berry slow 'bout readin' and I want to learn a heap," answered
Hepsey, with such a wistful look in her soft eyes that Christie shut
her book, saying briskly:

"Then I'll teach you. Bring out your primer and let's begin at
once."

"Dear chile, it's orful hard work to put learnin' in my ole head,
and I wouldn't 'cept such a ting from you only I needs dis sort of
help so bad, and I can trust you to gib it to me as I wants it."

Then in a whisper that went straight to Christie's heart, Hepsey
told her plan and showed what help she craved.

For five years she had worked hard, and saved her earnings for the
purpose of her life. When a considerable sum had been hoarded up,
she confided it to one whom she believed to be a friend, and sent
him to buy her old mother. But he proved false, and she never saw
either mother or money. It was a hard blow, but she took heart and
went to work again, resolving this time to trust no one with the
dangerous part of the affair, but when she had scraped together
enough to pay her way she meant to go South and steal her mother at
the risk of her life.