strange and totally unexpected fashion. Upon the tense, nerve-breaking
silence, a voice suddenly intruded like a flash of light in a dark place.
It was a sweet and girlish voice, singing some simple ballad, with a
natural pathos which rendered the song singularly touching and
attractive. As the voice came nearer the cripple's expression changed
entirely; his hard eyes grew soft, and the handsome features were
wreathed in a smile. Then the door opened, and the singer came in.

Gurdon looked at her, though she seemed unconscious of his presence
altogether. He saw a slight, fair girl, dressed entirely in white, with
her long hair streaming over her shoulders. The face was very sad and
wistful, the blue eyes clouded with some suggestion of trouble and
despair. Gurdon did not need a second glance to assure him that he was in
the presence of one who was mentally afflicted. She came forward and took
her place by the side of the cripple.

"They told me that you are busy," she said, "Just as if it mattered
whether you were busy or not, when I wanted to see you."

"You must go away now, Beth," the cripple said, in his softest and most
tender manner. "Don't you see that I am talking with this gentleman?"

The girl turned eagerly to Gurdon; she crossed the room with a swift,
elastic step, and laid her two hands on him.

"I know what you have come for," she said, eagerly. "You have come to
tell me all about Charles. You have found him at last; you are going to
bring him back to me. They told me he was dead, that he had perished in
the mine; but I knew better than that. I know that Charles will come back
to me again."