Elsie was a strange, solitary woman, associating with no one but Mary Bruce. Sometimes they would miss her from the neighborhood for weeks, then suddenly she would make her appearance, always exhibiting the same interest in the Bruce family. In about four months after Stephen's disappearance, a package, directed to Mrs. Bruce in an unknown hand, was left at the cottage door by a little boy, who as quickly disappeared. It was found to contain fifty pounds, saying that the same would come quarterly from her husband's estate. Mrs. Bruce was amazed. How could it have come to her? Why did she not receive letters from Scotland? It was evidently not a foreign letter. She could not fathom the mystery. On the following day Elsie paid her accustomed visit. "How fare the bairns, Mrs. Bruce? Where is Roland?" When he stepped forward, Elsie laid her hand upon his head and said, with deep emotion, "God bless you, my bairn, ye're the vera image o' yer father." "Did you know my father, Elsie?" asked the boy, surprised. Elsie seemed to recover herself in a minute, and replied, coldly, "I hae seen him, Roland." This time her visit was a short one, and, as she left the house, Mrs. Bruce said to her children, "Elsie is a strange woman; I wonder what makes her think so much of us?" Next evening she called again. They were all seated in the little porch enjoying the cool evening air. "There, mother!" said Effie, "is the boy that brought the package." "What package?" asked Elsie. "A strange thing happened day before yesterday, Elsie. A little boy called towards evening and left a note, in an unknown hand, enclosing a remittance of fifty pounds from my husband's estate." Roland was by this time running after the boy, calling to him to stop; but he was too quick, and disappeared in the woods close by. Elsie looked pleased and said, "I ween that Roland will na catch the lad, he is a swift little hare-foot." "Why, do you know who he is?" asked Mrs. Bruce. "I dinna say sae, Mrs. Bruce." Elsie arose hastily and took her leave. For several years the same mysterious notes came quarterly, but at last they entirely ceased. Elsie Gibson had been absent for months, and the family were wondering what had become of their old friend, when, one evening, Roland spied the same tartan plaid which Elsie always wore, and which distinguished her from all her neighbors. "Mother, I do believe that Elsie Gibson is coming up the lane," exclaimed Roland, and in a few minutes she opened the door and walked in. Elsie looked sad and careworn. "I maun sit me doon, Mrs. Bruce, for I'm a weary body this cauld night," and she took her seat near the fire. "Where have you been so long, Elsie?" asked Mrs. Bruce. "I hae been far awa', tending on a sick friend; but he's better now--that is, better in body, but sore stricken in mind." "I have had trouble too, Elsie, since we parted. My quarterly allowance has all stopped, and I must look around for means of support."