'So it is, Miss Radie,' answered the old woman, her glittering eyes returning her sad gaze wofully. 'Aye, so it is, sure!--and such it was and will be. For so the Scripture says--"Cursed is the ground for thy sake"--hard to the body--a vale of tears--dark to the spirit. But it is the hand of God that is upon you, and, like me, you will say at last, "It is good for me that I have been in trouble." Lie down, dear Miss Radie, and I'll read to you the blessed words of comfort that have been sealed for me ever since I saw you last. They have--but that's over.' And she turned up her pallid, puckered face, and, with a trembling and knotted pair of hands uplifted, she muttered an awful thanksgiving. Rachel said nothing, but her eyes rested on the floor, and, with the quiet obedience of her early childhood, she did as Tamar said. And the old woman assisted her to undress, and so she lay down with a sigh in her bed. And Tamar, her round spectacles by this time on her nose, sitting at the little table by her pillow, read, in a solemn and somewhat quavering voice, such comfortable passages as came first to memory. Rachel cried quietly as she listened, and at last, worn out by many feverish nights, and the fatigues of her journey, she fell into a disturbed slumber, with many startings and sudden wakings, with cries and strange excitement. Old Tamar would not leave her, but kept her seat in the high-backed arm-chair throughout the night, like a nurse--as indeed she was--in a sick chamber. And so that weary night limped tediously away, and morning dawned, and tipped the discoloured foliage of the glen with its glow, awaking the songs of all the birds, and dispersing the white mists of darkness. And Rachel with a start awoke, and sat up with a wild look and a cry-- 'What is it?' 'Nothing, dear Miss Radie--only poor old Tamar.' And a new day had begun. CHAPTER XXIV. DORCAS BRANDON PAYS RACHEL A VISIT. It was not very much past eleven that morning when the pony carriage from Brandon drew up before the little garden wicket of Redman's Farm. The servant held the ponies' heads, and Miss Dorcas passed through the little garden, and met old Tamar in the porch. 'Better to-day, Tamar?' enquired this grand and beautiful young lady. The sun glimmered through the boughs behind her; her face was in shade, and its delicate chiselling was brought out in soft reflected lights; and old Tamar looked on her in a sort of wonder, her beauty seemed so celestial and splendid. Well, she _was_ better, though she had had a bad night. She was up and dressed, and this moment coming down, and would be very happy to see Miss Brandon, if she would step into the drawing-room.