Why--you are crying again.

Don't be so worried about me, dear; I think there is nothing to fear, yet." The grieving messenger carried her message, and piously delivered it to unheeding ears.

The girl babbled on unaware; looking up at her with wondering and startled eyes flaming with fever, eyes in which was no light of recognition: "Are you--no, you are not my mother.

I want her--oh, I want her! She was here a minute ago--I did not see her go.

Will she come?
will she come quickly?
will she come now ?...