"I must go onward.

I dare not stop." "And what'll thee do, when thee gets there?
Thee must think about that, my daughter." "My daughter" came naturally from the lips of Rachel Halliday; for hers was just the face and form that made "mother" seem the most natural word in the world.
Eliza's hands trembled, and some tears fell on her fine work; but she answered, firmly, "I shall do--anything I can find.

I hope I can find something." "Thee knows thee can stay here, as long as thee pleases," said Rachel.
"O, thank you," said Eliza, "but"-- she pointed to Harry--"I can't sleep nights; I can't rest.

Last night I dreamed I saw that man coming into the yard," she said, shuddering.
"Poor child!" said Rachel, wiping her eyes; "but thee mustn't feel so.
The Lord hath ordered it so that never hath a fugitive been stolen from our village.

I trust thine will not be the first." The door here opened, and a little short, round, pin-cushiony woman stood at the door, with a cheery, blooming face, like a ripe apple.