A Heart's Bitterness — page 171: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

A HEART’S BITTERNESS. 163 ‘He's safe, my dearie. He’ll trouble you no more.’ “Oh, who is he? Who is the fearful creature” «Just a crazy man I’m in charge of. And. he is well shut in now. Fear him no more. There, he is sent off.” ‘* But who are you?” asked Violet, clinging to the strong brown hand. ““[’m Dame Magery Rogers. I found you fallen in the’ field, and a bit feverish and light-headed. Come now— drink what is in this cup, and lie down to sleep. Ill not leave you. There, my dear; you are as safe as a child on its mother’s lap, and welcome as flowersin May. Lie there, and [ll sing to you.” She put Violet back on her pulow, and began to sing. As the verses crooned on, Violet fell asleep. - She slept most of the time until next morning. When she awoke, the episode of the crazy man seemed to her a dream of her | fevered sleep. The dame waited on her with motherly care, and after she had eaten her breakfast, Violet lay back on her pillow, with a great sense of rest and comfort. Only there was that dream—or was it a reality? She spoke: ‘¢ Will you please tell me if there is a horrible crazy man, or did I dream it?” KS “You've had many ill dreams,” said. the dame, evasively. mg There’ s no one here to harm you, my pr etty; ; you are safe.” ‘‘How kind and strong you look!” said _ Violet; “but I seem to know your face—it looks familiar.” ““T used to bea nurse. My family are dead, and now I live alone.” ‘“T should like to stay here—for a long, long while,” said Violet. ‘* Would you let me stay with you? will make you no trouble. I shall be quite well by to- “morrow, and I know well how to wait on myself.” .**Where is your mother, child? demanded’ the old woman. ‘Dead long ago, or I should have gone to her. I would not have needed to go away at all, if I had a mother or father or any one to love me or take care of me.’ ‘“ No one to love you, my little dear. Sure mae is some one who ought to love you well.” ‘‘ Yes, but he doesn’t; no one does. I don’t know what _ it is in me, that no one can love me, or be true to me,” ~ “GomIichboo S) (e{@) aon