"Oh, what a load you have taken off my heart!" she exclaimed. "Oh, what a darling you are! Kiss me, Maggie, kiss me, dear, dear Maggie." "All right, Miss. You was angry with me afore, and now you're a-hugging of me, and I don't see no more sense in one than t'other. Ef you'll hold the baby up warm to you, Miss, and breathe ag'in her cheek werry gentle-like, you'll be a-doing more good than a-kissing of me. I must find sticks, and I must light up a fire, and I must do it this minute, or we won't have no baby to talk about, nor fuss over." Maggie's rough and practical words were perhaps the best possible tonic for Flower at this moment. She had been on the verge of a fit of hysterics, which might have been as terrible in its consequences as either her passion or her despair. Now trembling slightly, she sat down on the little stool which Maggie had pulled forward for her, took the baby in her arms, and partly opening the shawl which covered it, breathed on its white face. The little one certainly was alive, and when Flower's breath warmed it, its own breathing became stronger. Meanwhile, Maggie bustled about. The hermit's hut, now that she had something to do in it, seemed no longer at all terrible. After a good search round she found some sticks, and soon a bright fire blazed and crackled, and filled the tiny house with light and warmth. A pot of water was put on the fire to warm, and then Maggie looked round for a vessel to bathe the baby in. She found a little wooden tub, which she placed ready in front of the fire. "So far, so good!" she exclaimed; "but never a sight of a towel is there to be seen. Ef you'll give me the baby now, Miss, I'll warm her limbs a bit afore I put her in the bath. I don't know how I'm to dry her, I'm sure, but a hot bath she must have." "I have got a white petticoat on," said Flower. "Would that be any use?" "Off with it this minute, then, Miss; it's better nor nought. Now, then, my lamb! my pretty! see ef Maggie don't pull you round in a twinkling!" She rubbed and chafed the little creature's limbs, and soon baby opened her eyes, and gave a weak, piteous cry. "I wish I had something to give her afore I put her in the bath," said Maggie. "There's sure to be sperits of some sort in a house like this. You look round you and see ef you can't find something, Miss Flower." Flower obediently searched in the four corners of the hut. "I can't see anything!" she exclaimed. "The place seems quite empty." "Eh, dear!" said Maggie: "you don't know how to search. Take the baby, and let me." She walked across the cabin, thrust her hand into some straw which was pressed against the rafters, pulled out an old tin can and opened it. "Eh, what's this?" she exclaimed. "Sperits? Now we'll do. Give me the baby back again, Miss Flower, and fetch a cup, ef you please." Flower did so.