CHAPTER XVII.
THE RESULT.
Letty would never perhaps have come to herself in the cold of this world, under the shifting tent of the winter night, but for an outcast mongrel dog, which, wandering masterless and hungry, but not selfish, along the road, came upon her where she lay seemingly lifeless, and, recognizing with pity his neighbor in misfortune, began at once to give her--it was all he had that was separable--what help and healing might lie in a warm, honest tongue.

Diligently he set himself to lick her face and hands.
By slow degrees her misery returned, and she sat up.

Rejoiced at his success, the dog kept dodging about her, catching a lick here and a lick there, wherever he saw a spot of bare within his reach.

By slow degrees, next, the knowledge of herself joined on to the knowledge of her misery, and she knew who it was that was miserable.

She threw her arms round the dog, laid her head on his, and wept.