checked her recovery. To prevent this the unfortunate girl was never to
be left alone, and Mary had gladly agreed with her friend to fill her
place whenever she was obliged to leave the house.

The meeting of the elders and guardians had already begun when Hannah
took her tablets in her hand, on which was noted the distribution she had
made of the money entrusted to her during the last week. She greeted the
sick girl and Mary with a kindly look and whispered to the deformed girl:

"I will think of thee in my prayers thou faithful soul. There is some
food in the little cupboard--not much, for we must be sparing, the last
medicine was so dear."

In the little anteroom a lamp was burning which Mary had lighted as it
began to grow dark, and the widow paused for a moment, considering
whether she should not extinguish it to save the oil. She had taken up
the tongs that hung by it, and was about to put it out, when she heard a
gentle tap at the house-door. Before she could enquire who it was that
asked admission at so late an hour, the door was opened and Arsinoe
entered the little hall. Her eyes were still full of tears and she had
great difficulty in finding words to return Hannah's greeting.

"Why what ails you my child?" asked the Christian anxiously when by the
dim light, she saw how tearful and sad the girl looked. Arsinoe was long
before she could answer. At last she collected herself sufficiently to
sob out amid her tears:

"Oh dame Hannah! It is all over with us--my father, our poor father--"

The widow guessed at the blow that bad fallen on the sisters and full of