Almost at once upon tasting the soup, a little colour began to return to Alice’s cheek. Barbara was feeding her, and a feeble smile flickered over the thin face. To Richard, having seen but little tenderness in his mother, it was more than a gracious sight, it was a revelation to him to see the love that flowed from the strong, tender girl to the delicate, starved creature to whom she was ministering.

Richard then told Barbara that, if she approved, he would take Alice to his grandfather. He was sure he would receive her graciously, and both he and Jessie would do what they could for her. But he did not know of any vehicle he could get to carry her there except for his grandfather’s pony cart, and that was four miles away.

“All right!” said Barbara. “I will stay with her till you come.”

“But how will you get home afterward?”

“As I came, of course. Don’t trouble yourself about me. I can look after myself.”

“But what if they have locked the library window?”

“Then I will take refuge somewhere in the night. Or ring the bell of the front door. Don’t think about me. I shall come to no harm. Go at once and fetch the pony cart.”

Richard left the cottage and set off running, not arriving at his grandfather’s till the dead of night. But he had little difficulty rousing the old man. He told him all he knew about Alice and the plight he now had found her in. Simon looked grave when he heard Richard’s story and learned how his daughter had attempted to keep Richard from Alice and her brother. He dressed hurriedly, harnessed the pony to the cart, and made his own preparations for going with Richard to fetch the girl. In a few minutes they were spinning along the gray road.

When they reached the hut, Barbara was standing by the door. While Richard got down and went in, she talked to Simon. Richard found Alice wide awake, staring into the fire, with a look that brought a great rush of pity into his heart, especially when he remembered how the girl had shrunk from him before. Their kind hostess had crept into bed beside her husband, and was snoring as loudly as he.

Without a word he wrapped Alice in the blanket he had brought, took her again in his arms, and carried her to the cart. The sturdy old man leaned down from his perch and took her from him, placing her comfortably beside him. He put his arm around her, and with a nod to Barbara, and never a word to his grandson, drove away. Richard knew his grandfather’s rugged goodness too well to mind, and was confident he would do not less but more than he promised for Alice.