The Fourth Watch | Page 8

you, child, for your interest in the boy. You remind me more and more of your dear mother."
"And why should I not take an interest in him, father? He saved my life, and, though I can never repay him, I should like to feel that I am doing something. You know I read to Nora whenever I can, but this need not interfere with that. And, oh, father, Stephen was here this afternoon, and he's in great trouble."
"What's wrong, dearie?" questioned the parson, as Nellie paused and a deep flush suffused her face.
"The Frenelle homestead is to be sold."
"What! do I understand you aright? Peter Frenelle's farm, that fine property which he left free of debt when he died?"
"Yes, it's only too true. You know there has been a heavy mortgage on it for several years, and as the interest has not been paid for some time the mortgage has been foreclosed, and the place is to be sold."
"Dear me, dear me," and the parson leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, as he always did when in deep thought. "It's bad management, that's what it is. Stephen has had a splendid start, and through carelessness he has let everything go to ruin."
"Father, don't blame Stephen too much. He's only young, and had a great responsibility placed upon his shoulders after his father's death."
"Blame him! Blame him! Why should I blame anyone?" and the parson placed his hand to his forehead. "Stephen is as dear to me as my own son--and I love him. But, oh, it is hard to see my old friend's farm go to others. I have talked with Stephen time and time again. But he has not taken the right grip of life. Poor Mrs. Frenelle, her heart must be broken. And Nora, that dear invalid girl, how hard for her."
Nellie made no reply to her father's words. She sat looking into the fire. Tears were in her eyes and her heart was heavy. Everything had seemed so bright but a short time before, and now this dark cloud had arisen. Oh, if Stephen would only bestir himself. They had known each other from childhood. He had always been her hero. As a child her day-dreams and fancies were woven about him. And as years advanced their love for each other had increased. It was the natural blending of two souls which had gradually and silently grown together in the bright sunshine of happy youth.
A knock upon the door at the side of the house startled her. At once she arose to ascertain its meaning, and shortly returned.
"Father," she said, "Billy Fletcher is very sick, and wishes to see you."
"Who brought word, my dear?"
"Hugh Peters. He called to see the old man as he was coming down the road, and found him quite ill."
The effect of this message was quite magical. No longer was Parson John the quiet fireside reader, but the true sympathetic pastor. He laid aside his pipe, and at once arose from his comfortable chair. An expression of loving concern overspread Nellie's face as she assisted him on with his storm coat, and procured his cap, mittens and overshoes. But no word of remonstrance came from her lips, no urging him to put off his visit until the morning. From a child she had been accustomed to these sudden calls to the side of departing parishioners, to read the Word of life and at times to administer the Holy Communion.
Her father's step was slow as of one much wearied, though his voice was cheery and strong as he bade his daughter good-bye, seized the small lantern she had lighted for him, and stepped out into the cold night on his mission of love.

Chapter IV
The Warder of the Night
After her father's departure, Nellie sat before the fire engaged upon some needlework. Occasionally her hands rested in her lap, while she gazed thoughtfully into the bright blaze. The soft light from the shaded lamp fell athwart her wealth of dark-brown hair and fair face. Her long lashes drooped as she leaned back in an easy-chair, and let her mind wander to the days when she and Stephen played together as happy children. What bright dreams were theirs, and how many fairy palaces they erected in the far unknown future.
A movement in the cosy-corner roused her from her reverie. She glanced quickly in that direction and saw Dan sitting bolt upright, gazing intently upon her. Nellie smiled as she saw his look of wonder mingled with embarrassment.
"Have you had a nice sleep?" she asked.
"Guess so," came the slow reply. "I dreamed that you and my father were right by my side, but when I woke he was gone and only you are with me."
"I hope you will like it here," Nellie remarked, hardly knowing