“An’ will he take yeh away, an’ do by yeh ez a husban’ ought to do, or will he take yeh onto that Fairchild farm, an’ break yer heart out ez his father did his mother’s, an’ ez his uncle did yer mother’s, an’ ez his brother, so they tell me, is doin’ with his wife?” “Oh, mercy!” the girl exclaimed, involuntarily; then she whispered to Seth, back of the curtains: “What shall I do! I forgot all about it--Isabel is there in the parlor and she has heard every word we’ve said.” The quick ears of the invalid caught the whispered explanation. . “Isabel!” she said, sharply. “That’s Albert Fairchild’s wife ain’t it?” “Yes!” the girl answered. She tried in dumb show to convey to Seth that her grandmother was ignorant of his brother’s death. “Go an’ fetch her in here,” said Mrs. Warren, with more animation in her voice than it had shown before. “I want to see her--to talk with her.” “But, Granny, you ought’nt to see strangers; you know, the doctor----” “I guess she ain’t much more of a stranger than this young man you’ve got here. Go an’ fetch her, I say! I won’t hurt her, an’ she won’t hurt me.” There was nothing for Annie to do, but go into the parlor, and bow shamefacedly to Isabel, and say, with embarrassment in every syllable: “Excuse me for not coming before, but I think my grandmother is dying. She wants very much to see you. Won’t you come, please?” Isabel had risen to her feet upon Annie’s entrance. To the latter’s surprise and increased confusion she held forth her hand with a friendly gesture. “Yes, I will come with you,” she said, as Annie doubtingly took the proffered hand, and the two women entered the sick-room. Isabel did not seem to see Seth, who stood at the head of the bed, among the drawn curtains, but walked to the bedside and said softly: “I am Isabel, Mrs. Warren; I am sorry that our first meeting should find you so low.” “So you’re Albert’s wife, eh?” The old woman eyed her keenly, for what seemed a long time. “I’ve heered tell o’ you. Would you mind gettin’ that candle there, on the mantle-piece, an’ holdin’ it, so’t I kin see yer face?” Isabel gravely complied with the request, and stood before the invalid again, with the yellow light glowing upon her throat and lower chin and nostrils and full, Madonna-like brows. Her face was at its best with this illumination from below. She would have been a rare beauty close before the footlights.