I will write again soon; so pray do not fret yourself, for I have had no hurt that will trouble me for any time." Of course, poor Susan Posey burst out crying, and cried as if her heart would break.

Oh dear! Oh dear! what should she do! He was almost killed, she knew he was, or he had broken some of his bones.

Oh dear! Oh dear! She would go and see him, there!--she must and would.

He would die, she knew he would,--and so on.
It was a singular testimony to the evident presence of a human element in Mr.Bytes Gridley that the poor girl, on her extreme trouble, should think of him as a counsellor.

But the wonderful relenting kind of look on his grave features as he watched the little twins tumbling about his great books, and certain marks of real sympathy he had sometimes shown for her in her lesser woes, encouraged her, and she went straight to his study, letter in hand.