"Never mind," she said, soothingly; "don't think any more about it than you can help. Perhaps it will all come back some time; Father thinks it will. He thinks the stone, or whatever it was, that fell on you, must have given your brain a terrible shock. He says he heard of a man once who was very badly hurt in a railroad accident, and couldn't remember anything for a long time. His family thought he must be dead, but suddenly his memory all came back to him, and he went home, and gave them a great surprise. Perhaps it will be like that with you some day." "Miss Brent thinks all my people must have been killed in the earthquake," said Undine, with a sigh. "That might be the reason why nobody ever came to look for me. They say more people were killed than any one knew about. If I could only remember the very least thing that happened before, but I can't; it's just as if I came alive for the first time that day in the hospital. Oh, here comes your aunt; I'll go and help her with her chair." And dropping her towel on the floor of the porch, Undine darted into the house, whence she returned in a moment, carefully guiding Miss Graham's wheeled chair over the door-sill. "Thank you, dear," Miss Graham said, kindly. "You are a very helpful little girl, but when you are as accustomed to me and my chair as Marjorie is, you will realize that I can manage very well. I heard your voices, and thought I would come out here for a little while; it's so much cooler than in the house." "Won't you let me get your sewing, or your book, or something?" inquired Undine, hovering solicitously over the invalid. "No, thank you. I have been sewing all the afternoon; helping Mrs. Graham with the new parlor curtains, and I'm going to be lazy for a little while. I am afraid you dropped your own sewing, in your anxiety to help me." Undine blushed as she stooped to pick up the discarded towel. "I'm afraid I'm very careless," she said apologetically; "Miss Brent said I was, but I love to wait on people." Miss Graham laughed, and she had such a merry, contagious laugh that she was speedily joined by Marjorie, and even Undine herself. "It is very pleasant to be waited on," she said, "and I am sure you would make a capital nurse, Undine." Undine looked pleased. "I should like to be a nurse," she said. "I used to do lots of things for Mr. Jackson, and he liked to have me. I wish I could wait on you, because then I should feel that I was of some use, and that you weren't just keeping me because you were sorry for me." There was an unmistakable wistfulness in Undine's tone, and Miss Graham was touched. "My dear little girl," she said, "I am sure there are many ways in which you can make yourself useful if you stay with us. You will soon learn to be a great help to Mrs. Graham, and there will be many little things you can do for me as well."