She had not heard a word like this--not since her father went to what people call the "long home"-- as if a home could be too long! What do we want but an endless home ?--only it is not the grave! She felt as if the spirit of her father had descended on the strange workman, and had sent him to her.

She looked at him with shining eyes, and did not speak.

He resumed, as fearing he had not conveyed his thought.
"What I think I mean is, miss, that, if the working of miracles in his name wouldn't do it, it's not likely playing the fiddle will." "Oh, I understand you so well!" said Mary, in a voice hardly her own, "-- so well! It makes me happy to hear you! Tell me what I can do for you." "The poor gentleman in there must want all the help you can give him, and more.

There must be something left, surely, for a man to do.

He must want lifting at times, for instance, and that's not fit for either of you ladies." "Thank you," said Mary, heartily.