"Look me full in the face, Cecile, and make the promise as solemn as
though it were yer werry last breath--look me in the face, Cecile,
and say after me, 'I promise to find Lovedy again.'"

"I promise to find Lovedy again," repeated Cecile.

"Now kiss me, child."

Cecile did so.

"That kiss is a seal," continued her stepmother; "ef you break yer
promise, you'll remember as you kissed the lips of her who is dead,
and the feel 'ull haunt you, and you'll never know a moment's
happiness. But you're a good girl, Cecile--a good, dependable child,
and I'm not afeared for you. And now, my dear, you has made the
promise, and I has got to give you directions. Cecile, did you ever
wonder why your stepmother worked so hard?"

"I thought we must be very poor," said Cecile.

"No, my dear, yer father had that little bit of money coming in from
France every year. It will come in for four or five years more, and
it will be enough to pay Aunt Lydia for taking care on you both. No,
Cecile, I did not work for myself, nor for you and Maurice--I worked
for Lovedy. All that beautiful church embroidery as I sat up so late
at night over, the money I got for it was for my girl; every lily I
worked, and every passion-flower, and every leaf, took a little drop
of my heart's blood, I think; but 'twas done for her. Now, Cecile,
put yer hand under my pillow--there's a purse there."