They had brought her baby for her to see, but the touch of its hand on her cheek had awakened such intense love, and remorse, and pity and longing for the other child dead so long ago, that she had writhed in agony and pushed her boy away, while her wandering mind went far, far down into the deepest depths of darkness as she reviewed a page of her life which she had thought sealed forever. How awful were the hours of those days when the pine tree nodded and grinned and laughed and threw its long arms at her, and Abelard came and stood beside her with sad, reproachful eyes. Oh, it was horrible, and from this horror Gertie’s voice had called her back, and she clung to the young girl, and insisted upon having her with her as much as possible, and said to herself: “It’s because of her care for that grave that I love her so much;” and when one day during her convalescence Gertie came to her and told her of Miss Armstrong’s sudden illness, and that the school was closed indefinitely, and asked what she should do for a teacher, Edith considered for a moment, and then said: “Go, please, to Colonel Schuyler’s room, and ask him to come here, and you wait in the hall till you see him go out.” “What is it, darling? Can I do anything for you?” the colonel asked, as he bent over his wife. “Yes, Howard,” and Edith’s white fingers strayed caressingly over his hair and forehead. “You know that,—that both of us feel as if I were indebted to Gertie Westbrooke for my life, and I wish to do her a favor. Will you say yes to it?” “Certainly—certainly. Is it money?” the colonel asked, and Edith replied: “No. Miss Armstrong’s school is broken up, and Gertie has no teacher. She is a fine scholar, I hear, and anxious to learn. Let her come here every day and recite to Miss Browning. Miss Alice has nearly finished her education, and will soon be gone. Shall it be so? May I tell her to come?” There was a momentary hesitation on the colonel’s part and then he answered: “Yes, certainly, yes, let her come. You always had a _penchant_ for this girl, and I must say she seems a very remarkable child.” And so it was settled that Gertie was henceforth to recite to Miss Browning, and though there was much opposition in the school-room, the colonel stood firmly to his decision, and one pleasant morning in October Gertie brought her books to Schuyler Hill and took the desk assigned her, far removed from her aristocratic companions, who at first scarcely noticed her by so much as a nod of recognition.