"Oh!" she said, "this is what I have prayed for. God has heard me, and it is come. My beautiful princess has come. You are my beautiful princess, and I shall always love you. I will get Brian to buy lots of things; he will be here after school. Does the gentleman know?" "Yes, he brought me." "Then I shall love him, too; you are both good. I shall try and make father know you brought the money; but he does not understand much now. Hark! he is calling--he is awake!" Norah hastened back to her post, and Griselda followed her. Leslie Travers had been standing by the sick man's bed, and Griselda, ashamed of her feelings of repulsion and shrinking, took her place by his side. Suddenly a flash of intelligence came into those large dark eyes, and the man started up and gazed at Griselda, repeating: "Who is she?--who is she?" "The dear beautiful lady who has brought us all we want. Thank her, father--thank her!" "Thank her!" he repeated. "_Who is she?_" Then an exceeding bitter cry echoed through the rafters of the chamber as if it would pierce the very roof. And with that cry the man fell back on his pillow, saying: "Phyllis--Phyllis! come back--come back!" Griselda started towards the door, and Leslie Travers caught her, or she would have fallen down the steep, narrow stairs. "Take me away--take me away! I cannot bear it! Oh, it is too dreadful! That face--those eyes--that cry!" "Yes," he said, carefully guiding her downstairs, and shielding her as much as possible from the inquisitive stare of the dwellers in the same house, taking her hand in his, and drawing it into his arm: "You are not accustomed to such sad sights, the poverty and the squalor." "It was the man who frightened me. What made him call Phyllis--Phyllis! that beautiful sacred name, for it was my mother's?" "He was raving; he fancied he was on the stage. He will not live many days, and then we will see that the child is cared for." The "_we_" escaped his lips before he was aware of it; but the time for reticence was past. He turned into the Abbey, and Griselda made no resistance. Then with impassioned earnestness Leslie Travers told his love, and often as the tale is told, it is seldom rehearsed with more simple manly fervour. For in the reality of his love Leslie Travers forgot all the flowery and fulsome love epithets which were the fashion of the day. He did not kneel at her feet and vow he was her slave; he did not call her by a thousand names of endearment; but he made her feel perfect confidence in his sincerity. This confidence ever awakes a response in the heart of a true woman, and makes her ready to trust her future in his hands who asks to guard it henceforth. "Yes," she had answered in a low but clear tone; "yes, I thank you for the kindness you do me." He tried to stop her, but she went on: