"Water?" said Amy, opening her eyes. Mabel turned entreatingly to the stranger, who, without another word, left the room. Martin soon afterwards returned with a light, and placed it on the floor, and Mabel again entreated for water to moisten Amy's parched lips; but it was more difficult to obtain than she imagined, for the whole furniture of the house had been long since removed, and the empty cupboard looked comfortless indeed. But, in a short while, the stranger returned, and presented her with a cup of pure water, which she eagerly gave to Amy. "Thank you, sir," said Amy, gently, "and thank you for carrying me. Did you mind my crying? I felt very ill, and could not help it," she looked at him timidly. "Sir," she continued, rousing herself with an energy which surprised him, "Mabel will soon be alone. Do you think any one will comfort her, and take care of her?" "May I," said he, to Mabel, suddenly moving towards them, "may I speak to her alone?" "Yes, yes," said Amy, eagerly, "let him speak to me." "Her time is precious;" said Mabel, rising reluctantly, "do not keep me from her long." "No, I will not, but a few minutes," said the stranger, hurriedly, and Mabel leaving the room went into the open air, and, leaning against the door way, she tried to tranquillize her thoughts. The village was shut out by the tall trees which surrounded the entrances to the Manor House, and the low sighing of the wind, which was now beginning to sink, was the only sound which met her ear, while the busy clouds, dimly lighted by the occasional appearance of the moon, traced their way across the heavens. There were wild thoughts in her own mind, which made her heart beat tumultuously. With a sudden burst of anguish, she threw herself upon her knees, and laid her forehead upon the cold earth in the bitterness of her soul. She only rose when she heard the stranger's step, and then, passing him quickly, for she dared not trust herself to speak, she re-entered the room. Amy's cheeks were flushed, and the look of pain seemed entirely to have passed away. Her eyes were bright, "as if gazing on visions of ecstasy," while over her white countenance was spread a halo, at once so childlike and so serene that Mabel stepped more softly and knelt in silence by her side. Amy put out her hand, and fondly stroked her cheeks and smoothed her hair. "You are very beautiful, Mabel dear," she said, with gentle pride, as if she spoke to her own thoughts, "and you look more and more beautiful because you are so good, and what pretty hair," she said, still speaking to herself, while her sister blushed unconsciously at her praises. "Oh, it is a dear, good Mabel," said Amy, fondly; then changing her tone, and dropping her hands upon her bosom with simple devotion, she said, softly-- "Sing me to sleep." Mabel made a strong effort to overcome her emotion.