closer to the new-comer, and took her hand again.

"Try," she said, in a soft voice, "and think a little. Do you feel now so
ill as you were? Do not be frightened, but think a little. I will hold
your hand. And look at me; you are not afraid of me?"

The poor creature shuddered again, and then she turned her face and
looked doubtfully, with great dark eyes dilated, and the brow and cheek
so curved and puckered round them that they seemed to glow out of deep
caverns. Her face was full of anguish and fear. But as she looked at the
little Pilgrim, her troubled gaze softened. Of her own accord she clasped
her other hand upon the one that held hers, and then she said with a
gasp,--

"I am not afraid of you; that was not true that you said! You are one of
the sisters, and you want to frighten me and make me repent!"

"You do repent," the Pilgrim said.

"Oh," cried the poor woman, "what has the like of you to do with me? Now
I look at you, I never saw any one that was like you before. Don't you
hate me?--don't you loathe me? I do myself. It's so ugly to go wrong. I
think now I would almost rather die and be done with it. You will say
that is because I am going to get better. I feel a great deal better now.
Do you think I am going to get over it? Oh, I am better! I could get up
out of bed and walk about. Yes, but I am not in bed,--where have you
brought me? Never mind, it is a fine air; I shall soon get well here."

The Pilgrim was silent for a little, holding her hands. And then she
said,--