"Wait here a few minutes, if you please, my dear. I must go to my husband." She went away and left Sarah quite confused with the strangeness of the whole affair. Here she was, actually seated in the very apartment she had so desired to enter--the old lady she had so longed to know addressing her as if she had been a favorite child. She peeped out of the window toward her late prison; every thing looked quiet there, as usual. She wondered what dreadful penance she would be made to undergo, and decided that even bread and water for two days would not be so great a hardship, when she had the incident of the morning to reflect upon. She looked about the room with its quaint furniture, every thing so tidy and elegant, looking as if a speck of dust had never by any accident settled in the apartment, and thinking it the prettiest place she had seen in her life. Then she began thinking about the poor sick man, and worked herself into a fever of anxiety to hear tidings concerning him. Just then a servant entered with a tray of refreshments, and set it on the table near her, saying: "Please, miss, my missus says you must be hungry, 'cause it's your dinner-time." "And how is your master?" Sarah asked. "Bery comfortable now; missee'll be here in a minute. Now please to eat sumfin." Sarah was by no means loth to comply with the invitation, for the old cook had piled the tray with all sorts of delicacies, that presented a pleasing contrast to the plain fare she had been accustomed to of late. By the time she had finished her repast Mrs. Danforth returned, looking more composed and relieved. "The doctor gives me a great deal of encouragement," she said; "my husband is able to speak; by to-morrow he will thank you better than I can." "Oh, no," stammered Sarah; "I don't want any thanks, please. I didn't think--I--" She fairly broke down, but Mrs. Danforth patted her hand and said kindly: "I understand. But at least you must let me love you very much." Sarah felt her heart flutter and her cheeks glow. The blush and smile on that young face were a more fitting answer than words could have given. "I have sent an explanation of your absence to Madame Monot," continued Mrs. Danforth, "and she has given you permission to spend the day with me; so you need have no fear of being blamed." The thought of a whole day's freedom was exceedingly pleasant to Sarah, particularly when it was to be spent in that old house, which had always appeared as interesting to her as a story. It required but a short time for Mrs. Danforth and her to become well acquainted, and the old lady was charmed with her loveliness, and natural, graceful manners. She insisted upon accompanying Mrs. Danforth into the sickroom, and made herself so useful there, that the dear lady mentally wondered how she had ever got on without her.