Her room was in the southeast corner of the house, and the moon, dwindling past its half, bounded up from behind the wooded hills and saw upon her face the same tender look of smiling happiness. Presently, upon the still night air came the faint sound of cautious footsteps. She turned her eyes, that had been brooding upon the star-filled sky while her spirit wandered in dream-filled Elysian fields, downward to the earth. She could dimly make out a woman’s figure coming up the middle of the street. A lantern hung on one of the posts of the east gate, beside her father’s sign. But it had now a double purpose. Rhoda watched as the figure came slowly on, stopped at the gate, glanced warily about, and seemed to read the sign, “Dr. Amos M. Ware.” By the dim light she could see that the woman’s face was dark and that she held a child by the hand. Instantly the girl’s spirit was upon the earth again. With noiseless feet she rushed downstairs, through her father’s office, and out upon the veranda. The wanderer was climbing the steps and looking doubtfully about, as if uncertain what she ought to do next. “You’re in the right place,” said Rhoda assuringly, speaking barely above a whisper. “I am your friend--come in.” She hurried the woman into the office, pulled down the shades and lighted a candle. Then she saw that the fugitive, besides the child, perhaps four or five years old, which she led by the hand, carried a baby underneath her shawl. The girl drew a swift breath that was almost a sob. “Oh!” she exclaimed, running to the woman and putting her two hands gently upon her shoulders, “Oh, you poor thing! You poor thing!” The room occupied by Jim and Lizzie, the two colored servants, was next to the office, at the northeast corner of the house. Darting out on the veranda again, Rhoda ran to their window and rapped gently four times. In a few moments Jim opened the door. “Tell Lizzie to get up,” she whispered. “A poor woman with two children is here. I’ve got them in the office now, but you’d better let me bring them into your room as quickly as possible. They must have some supper and a little rest, and then we’ll decide what’s best to do.” Lizzie’s face appeared above Jim’s shoulder. “All right, Miss Rhoda,” she was saying in subdued but hearty accents, “you all kin come right in--in two minutes.” The runaways were soon eating a supper of cold meat and bread and milk, which Lizzie hurried into the room. Rhoda nodded and smiled at her and her husband.