revive and strengthen her.

Augustus, Toby, and the other men of the company had gone into the small
inn for refreshment, and Toby was sent back to the caravan with large
slices of bread and cheese for Rosalie and her mother. The child ate of it
eagerly--the fresh air had given her an appetite--but the poor woman could
not touch it. As soon as she was dressed, she crept, with Rosalie's help,
to the door of the caravan, and sat on the top step, leaning against one of
the boxes, which the child dragged from its place to make a support for
her.

The caravan was drawn up by the side of a small cottage with a thatched
roof. There was a little garden in front of it, filled with sweet flowers,
large cabbage-roses, southernwood, rosemary, sweetbriar, and lavender. As
the wind blew softly over them, it wafted their sweet fragrance to the sick
woman sitting on the caravan steps. The quiet stillness of the country was
very refreshing and soothing to her, after the turmoil and din of the last
week. No sound was to be heard but the singing of the larks overhead, the
humming of the bees, and the gentle rustling of the breeze amongst the
branches.

Then the cottage door opened, and a little child, about three years old,
ran out with a ball in his hand, which he rolled down the path leading to
the garden gate. A minute afterwards a young woman, in a clean cotton gown
and white apron, brought her work outside, and, sitting on the seat near
the cottage door, watched her child at play with a mother's love and
tenderness. She was knitting a little red sock for one of those tiny feet
to wear. Click! click! click! went her knitting-needles; but she kept her
eyes on the child, ready to run to him at the first alarm, to pick him up
if he should fall, or to soothe him if he should be in trouble. Now and