"O no," she replied, "it does not _abound_--although, I trust, it has a
home in my poor heart."

Emma found the door of poor Graffam's hut open, and the mother sitting
beside the cradle where lay the sick babe asleep.

"Walk in," said Mrs. Graffam, smiling as she advanced toward the door.

Dora was surprised at the ease of her manner, and the pleasant
expression of her countenance, as she handed them chairs, and seemed
really glad to see them.

"The babe is better," said she, as Emma advanced toward the cradle; and
at that moment the little one awoke.

The good motherly Dora took the "wee bit" into her arms, and talked
with Mrs. Graffam about the best course to be pursued with a feeble
child like that, while Emma unpacked the stores which they brought,
among which were many things not intended for baby, but which she
delicately classed with the rest, calling the whole "medicine."

Mrs. Graffam was at first somewhat reserved; but as Dora talked to her
as a friend and sister, the frost of her spirit melted away, and she
spoke of her mother now dead, of brothers and sisters, some dead and
some far away: and as she grew thus communicative, and the tears of
fond recollection trembled in her eyes, Dora talked of Him, the dear
unfailing friend, who sticketh closer than a brother; who, in all the
afflictions of his people, is afflicted, and the angel of whose
presence is with them to comfort and to bless.