"I was a fool to come," he muttered to himself; "I might have known better. The Evil Spirit surely prompted me." Then walking rapidly to the door, he said-- "I came here for comfort and advice, Miss Thusa, according to your own bidding, not to listen to railings that can do no good to you or to me. I had been to you so often in my boyish difficulties, and found sympathy and kindness, I thought I should find it now. I know I do not deserve it, but I nevertheless expected it from you. But it is no matter. I may as well brave the worst at once." Snatching up his hat and pulling it over his brows, he was about to shoot through the door, when the long arm of Miss Thusa was interposed as a barrier against him. "There is no use in being angry with an old woman like me," said she, in a pacifying tone, just as she would soothe a fretful child. "I always speak what I think, and it is the truth, too--Gospel truth, and you know it. But come, come, sit down like a good boy, and let us talk it all over. There--I won't say another cross word to-night." The first smile which had lighted up the face of Louis since his return, flitted over his lip, as Miss Thusa pushed him down into the chair he had quitted, and drew her own close to it. "Now," said she, "tell me how much money you want, and I'll try to get it for you. Have faith in me. That can work wonders." After Louis had made an unreserved communication of the whole, she told him to come the next day. "I can do nothing now," said she, "but who knows what the morrow may bring forth?" "Who, indeed!" thought Louis, as he wended his solitary way homeward. "I know not why it is, but I cannot help having some reliance on the promises of this singular old woman. It was my perfect confidence in her truth and integrity that drew me to her. What her resources are, I know not; I fear they exist only in her own imagination; but if she should befriend me in this, mine extremity, may the holy angels guard and bless her. Alas! it is mockery for me to invoke them." The next day when he returned to her cabin, he found her spinning with all her accustomed solemnity. He blushed with shame, as he looked round on the appearance of poverty that met his eye, respectable and comfortable poverty, it is true--but for him to seek assistance of the inmate of such a dwelling! He must have thought her a sorceress, to have believed in the existence of such a thing. He must have been maddened to have admitted such an idea. "Forgive me, Miss Thusa," said he, with the frankness of the _boy_ Louis, "forgive me for plaguing you with my troubles. I was not in my right senses yesterday, or I should not have done it. I have resolved to have no concealments from my father, and to tell him all." Miss Thusa dipped her hand in a pocket as deep as a well, which she wore at her right side, and taking out a well-filled and heavy purse, she put it in the hand of Louis.