The bright smile with which she looked up to Miss Thusa, died away in a kind of awe, as she met the solemn earnestness of her glance. "Yes, yes, child, I have long intended it as a legacy of love to you. There is a history hanging to it, which I will tell you by and by. For more than forty years that wheel and I have been companions and friends, and it is so much a part of myself, that if any one should cut into the old carved wood, I verily believe the blood-drops would drip from my heart. Things will grow together, powerfully, Helen, after a long, long time. And so you want to learn to spin, child. Well! suppose you sit down and try. These little white fingers will soon be cut by the flax, though, I can tell you." "May I, Miss Thusa, may I?" cried Helen, seating herself with childish delight at the venerable instrument, and giving it a whirl that might have made the flax smoke. Miss Thusa looked on with a benevolent and patronizing air, while Helen pressed her foot upon the treadle, wondering why it would jerk so, when it went round with Miss Thusa so smoothly, and pulled out the flax at arm's length, wondering why it would run into knots and bunches, when it glided so smooth and even through Miss Thusa's practiced fingers. Helen was so busy, and so excited by the new employment, she did not perceive a shadow cross the window, nor was she aware of the approach of any one, till an unusually gay laugh made her turn her head. "I thought Miss Thusa looked wonderfully rejuvenated," said Arthur Hazleton, leaning against the window-frame on the outside of the building, "but methinks she is the more graceful spinner, after all." "This is only my first lesson," cried Helen, jumping up, for the band had slipped from the groove, and hung in a hopeless tangle--"and I fear Miss Thusa will never be willing to give me another." "Ten thousand, child, if you will take them," cried Miss Thusa, good-naturedly, repairing the mischief her pupil had done. "Do you know the sun is down?" asked Arthur, "and that your path lies through the woods?" Helen started, and for the first time became aware that the shadows of twilight were deepening on the landscape. She did not think Arthur Hazleton would accompany her home. He would test her courage as he had done before, and taking a hurried leave of Miss Thusa, promising to stay and hear many a legend next time, she jumped over the stile before Arthur could overtake her and assist her steps. "Would you prefer walking alone?" said Arthur, "or will you accept of my escort?" "I did not think you intended coming with me," said Helen, "or I would have waited." "You thought me as rude and barbarous as ever." "Perhaps you think me as foolish and timid as ever." "You have become courageous and fearless then--I congratulate you--I told you that you would one day be a heroine."