the bridge, gazing after her as she crossed the hay-field.

Harold rode off with the letters; and Alfred lay gazing, and
wondering what that stranger could be, counting the holes in his
garments, and trying to guess at his history.

One good thing was, that Alfred was so much carried out of himself,
that he was cheerful all the evening.



CHAPTER II--HAY-MAKING



There was again a sultry night, which brought on so much discomfort
and restlessness, that poor Alfred could not sleep. He tried to bear
in mind how much he had disturbed his mother the night before, and he
checked himself several times when he felt as if he could not bear it
any longer without waking her, and to remember his old experience,
that do what she would for him, it would be no real relief, and he
should only be sorry the next day when he saw her going about her
work with a worn face and a head-ache.

Then every now and then Miss Selby's words about being patient came
back to him. Sometimes he thought them hard, coming from a being who
had never known sickness or sorrow, and wondered how she would feel
if laid low as he was; but they would not be put away in that manner,
for he knew they were true, and were said by others than Miss Jane,
though he had begun to think no phrase so tiresome, hopeless, or