"Bless you darling," cried the subdued spinster--"and you will be blessed. There's no malice, nor hard-heartedness in _you_. _You_ never turned your foot upon a worm. But as for her," continued she, pointing prophetically at Mittie, and fixing upon her her grave and gloomy eyes--"there's no blessing in store. She don't feel now, but if she lives to womanhood she _will_. The heart of stone will turn to flesh then, and every fibre it has got will learn how to quiver, as I've seen twisted wire do, when strong fingers pull it--_I know it will_. She will shed tears one of these days, and no one will wipe them off, as this little angel has done for me. I've done, now. I didn't mean to say what I did, but the Lord put it in my head, and I've spoken according to my gift." Mittie ran out of the room before the conclusion of the speech, unable to stand the moveless glance, that seemed to burn like heated metal into her conscience. "Come, Miss Thusa," said Louis, amiably, desirous of turning her thoughts into a new channel, and pitying while he blamed his offending sister, for the humiliation he knew she must endure--"come and tell us a story, while you are inspired. It is so long since I have heard one! Let it be something new and exciting." "I don't believe I could tell you one to save my life, now," replied Miss Thusa, her countenance lighting up with a gleam of satisfaction--"at least I couldn't act it out." "Never mind the acting, Miss Thusa, provided we hear the tale. Let it be a _powerful_ one." "Don't tell the _worm-eaten traveler_," whispered Helen. "I never want to hear that again." Miss Thusa see-sawed a moment in her low chair, to give a kind of balance to her imagination, and then began: "Once there was a maiden, who lived in a forest, a deep wild forest, in which there wasn't so much as the sign of a path, and nobody but she could find their way in or out. How this was, I don't know, but it was astonishing how many people got lost in those woods, where she rambled about as easy as if somebody was carrying a torch before her. Perhaps the fairies helped her--perhaps the evil spirits--I rather think the last, for though she was fair to look upon, her heart was as hard as the nether mill-stone." Miss Thusa caught a glimpse of Mittie, on the porch, through the open doors, and she raised her voice, as she proceeded: "One night, when the moon was shining large and clear, she was wandering through the forest, all alone, when she heard a little, tender voice behind her, and turning round, she saw a young child, with its hair all loose and wet, as 'twere, calling after her. "'I've lost my way,' it cried--'pray help me to find a path in the greenwood.' "'Find it by the moonlight,' answered the maiden, 'it shines for you, as well as for me.'