"With Jesus' help, Dolly," said Mrs. Bradford.
"He did help me," said Dolly. "He let her"—motioning towards Bessie—"come and tell me about Him."
The small, dirty hut, with the hard ground for its floor, its miserable roof, and chinks and crannies which let in the wind and damp, was no place for a sick child on these cool August nights; and now that Dolly could be moved without putting her to so much pain, it was thought best it should be done. The poor-house was many miles away, and now that Maggie and Bessie had come to take such an interest in her, and she in them, Mr. Porter said it would be cruel to send her so far, and offered to have her put in the old tool-house. So, for two or three days, the four boys and Starr busied themselves in repairing it for her, papa and Uncle Ruthven furnishing what they needed to make it comfortable. A few planks and nails, a little whitewash and paint, a sash-window, and some willing hands, soon made it secure against wind and rain. Then Mrs. Porter had it cleaned, and a cot-bed, a pine-table, and two chairs were put in it. Plain and bare enough it was, to be sure, but a wonderful contrast to Dolly's former home; and the children thought with great pleasure of seeing her brought there. This was to be done in a few days, but Dolly was not to be told of it until the time came.
As Maggie and Bessie were on their way home with their mother, they met Uncle Ruthven and Aunt Bessie, the Colonel and Mrs. Rush, all going for a walk, and were invited to join them. Mamma agreed, if Bessie were not too tired, but the little girl declared she was not; and Uncle Ruthven promised to take her on his shoulder if she gave out before they reached home. Many a ride had the little "princess" taken on this kind, strong shoulder during their mountain rambles, and she now often wondered that she could ever have had "objections" to this dear, loving uncle who was always so ready to help and please her. So they all turned back together, and, passing by the end of the lake, struck into the road which led down the mountain. They strolled slowly down this for some little distance, and then Mrs. Bradford, and Colonel and Mrs. Rush, sat down to rest before they began their homeward walk; while Mr. and Mrs. Stanton and the two little girls wandered about, gathering wild flowers and mosses. Blue gentians, golden-rod, Michaelmas daisies, and the pretty, red partridge-berry grew all about, and the children soon had their hands full.
Suddenly, Maggie spied a cluster of bright scarlet maple leaves, the first of the season. The gravelly side of the mountain sloped away here for a few feet, then fell sheer down in a tremendous precipice to the valley beneath; and a foot or so below the edge grew this beautiful, tantalizing bunch of leaves. It was quite beyond Maggie's reach, for she had been forbidden to go near that side of the road, where a slip, or false step, might have sent her down, down a thousand feet.
"O Aunt Bessie!" she cried, "look what a lovely bunch of red leaves. It is just what you said you wanted for that c'llection you are making. I wonder if Uncle Ruthven could not reach it for you."
Aunt Bessie turned and looked.
"I can reach it for myself," she said. "Uncle Ruthven is upon the rocks, after those climbing-ferns. I will stand here and hook it up with this crooked stick."
"Take care, Bessie, take care!" called her brother, the Colonel; "that is loose gravel there; if it slips with you, you are lost;" and, "Come back, Bessie, come back!" called her husband from above, seeing the danger more plainly than any of the others.
It was too late. She looked up, kissed her hand gayly to her husband, and turned to obey. But her foot was already upon the treacherous gravel, and she slipped a little, recovered herself; then, startled, tried too suddenly to spring upon firmer ground, and slipped again. The gravel gave way more and more beneath her weight. She went sliding, sliding down, and, in an instant, had disappeared from the sight of the terrified group above.