"You look tired and sick," she said. "Your cares have been too much

for one not yet strong. Let me sit by him till he wakes, and you go up

to bed."

Very gladly Maddy accepted the offered relief, and utterly worn out

with her constant vigils, she was soon sleeping soundly in her own

room, while Flora, in the little shed, or back room of the house, was

busy with her ironing. Thus there was none to follow Agnes as she went

slowly into the sick-room where Uncle Joseph lay, his thin face

upturned to the light, and his lips occasionally moving as he muttered

in his sleep. There was a strange contrast between that wasted

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imbecile and that proud, queenly woman, but she could remember a time

when the superiority was all upon his side, a time when in her

childish estimation he was the embodiment of every manly beauty, and

the knowledge that he loved her, his sister's little hired girl,

filled her with pride and vanity. A great change had come to them both

since those days, and Agnes, watching him and smothering back the cry

of pain which arose to her lips at sight of him, felt that for the

fearful change in him she was answerable. Intellectual, talented,

admired and sought by all he had been once; he was a mere wreck now,

and Agnes' breath came in short, quick gasps, as glancing furtively

around to see that no one was near, she laid her hand upon his

forehead, and parting his thin hair, said, pityingly: "Poor Joseph."

The touch awoke him, and starting up he stared wildly at her, while

some memory of the past seemed to be struggling through the misty

clouds, obscuring his mental vision.

"Who are you, lady? Who, with eyes and hair like hers?"

"I'm the `madam' from Aikenside," Agnes said, quite loudly, as Flora

passed the door. Then when she was gone she added, softly: "I'm Sarah.

Don't you know me? Sarah Agnes Morris."

It seemed for a moment to burst upon him in its full reality, and to

her dying day Agnes would never forget the look upon his face, the

smile of perfect happiness breaking through the rain of tears, the

love, the tenderness mingled with distrust, which that look betokened

as he continued gazing at her, but said to her not a word. Again her

hand rested on his forehead, and taking it now in his he held it to

the light, laughing insanely at its soft whiteness; then touching the

costly diamonds which flashed upon him the rainbow hues, he said:

"Where's that little bit of a ring I bought for you?"