and ran into the chamber, and laid the child down by the side of my
sister Rejoice."

Miss Vesta paused, and the shadow of a great awe crept into her keen
blue eyes. "The poor-farm was struck by lightning that night!" she
said. "The cradle where that baby was lying was shattered into
kindling-wood, and Liza Green has never been the same woman from that
day to this."




CHAPTER III.

ON THE ROAD.


Melody went singing down the road. She walked quickly, with a light
swaying motion, graceful as a bird. Her hands were held before her,
not, it seemed, from timidity, but rather as a butterfly stretches out
its delicate antennae, touching, feeling, trying its way, as it goes
from flower to flower. Truly, the child's light fingers were like
butterflies, as she walked beside the road, reaching up to touch the
hanging sprays of its bordering willows, or caressing the tiny flowers
that sprang up along the footpath. She sang, too, as she went, a song
the doctor had taught her:--

"Who is Silvia, and what is she,
That all our swains commend her?
Holy, fair, and wise is she;