While he was speaking, he led Alice and Helen on to the very verge of the rock, and looked down on the waterfall, tumbling below. Alice stood calm and still, holding, with perfect confidence, her brother's hand, but Helen recoiled and shuddered, and her cheek turned visibly paler. "We are close to the edge, brother--I know it by the sound of your voice," said Alice. "It seems to sink down and mingle with the roar of the water-fall." "Do you not fear, Alice?" asked her brother, drawing her still a little nearer. "Oh, no," she answered, with a radiant smile. "How can I fear, when I feel your hand sustaining me? I know, you would not lead me into danger. You would never let me fall." "Do you hear her?" asked he, looking reproachfully at Helen. "Oh, thou of little faith. When will you learn to confide, with the undoubting trust of this helpless blind girl? Do you believe that _I_ would willingly expose you to danger or suffering?" He withdrew his hand as he spoke, and Helen believing him seriously displeased, turned away to hide the tears that swelled into her eyes. In the meantime, Arthur led Alice along the edge of the rock to a little, natural bower beyond, which Alice called her bower, and where she and Helen had made a bed of moss, and adorned it with shells. Helen stood a moment alone on the rock, feeling as desolate as if she were the inhabitant of a desert island. She thought Arthur unkind, and the beautiful, embowering trees, gurgling waters, and sweet, singing birds, lost their charms to her. Slowly turning her steps homeward, yet not willing to enter the presence of Mrs. Hazleton without her companions, she lingered in the garden, making a bouquet, which she intended to give as a peace-offering to Arthur, when he returned. She did not enter the house till nearly dark, when she was surprised by seeing Arthur alone. "Where is Alice?" said he. "Alice!" repeated she, "I left her in the woods with you." "Yes! but I left her there also, in the arbor of moss, supposing you would soon return to her." "Left her alone!" cried Helen, wondering why Arthur, who seemed to idolize his lovely, blind sister, could have been so careless of her safety. "Alice is not afraid to be alone, Helen, she knows that God is with her. But it will soon be night, and she must not remain in the dark, damp woods much longer. You will go back and accompany her home, Helen, before the night-dew falls?" Helen's heart died within her at the mere thought of threading alone a path so densely shaded, and of passing over that beetling rock, beneath the gnarled, fantastic looking tree. It would be so dark before she returned! She went to the window, and looked out, then turned towards him with such a timid, wistful look, it was astonishing how he could have resisted the mute appeal. "Make haste, Helen," said he, gently, "it will be dark if you do not." "Will you not go with me?" she at length summoned boldness to ask. "Are you afraid to go, Helen?"