see what he could save for me.  Finding no one, the mob had wreaked their vengeance on our medicine bottles and glasses, smashed everything, and made terrible havoc of all our books, clothes and furniture.  Almost the only thing Mr. Field had found unhurt was mother’s little Greek Testament, which I had carried about, but utterly neglected till then.  Mr. Field saw my name in it, brought it to me, and kindly said he was glad to restore it; none could be utterly desolate whose study lay there.  I was obliged to tell him how you had sent it after me with that entreaty, which I had utterly neglected, and you can guess how he urged it on me.”

“You have gone on now,” said her mother, looking up at her.

Janet’s reply was to produce the little book from her handbag, showing marks of service, and then to open it at the fly leaf.  There Caroline herself had written “Janet Hermann,” with the reference to St. Luke xv. 20.  She had not dared to write more fully, but the good minister of Burkeville had, at Janet’s desire, put his own initials, and likewise written in full: 

“Refrain thy voice from weeping, and thine eyes from tears, for thy work shall be rewarded, saith the Lord, and they shall come again from the land of the enemy.  And there is hope in thine end, saith the Lord, that thy children shall come again to their own border.”

“He might have written it for me,” said Caroline.  “My child-—one at least is come to me.”

“Or you have gone into her far country to seek her,” said Janet.

“Can I write to this good man?” asked Caroline.  “I do long to thank him.”

“O yes.  I wrote to him only the day before yesterday.”

There was but little more of the narrative.  “At night he borrowed a waggon, and drove me to a station in time to take the early train for the north-east, supplying me with means for the journey, and giving me a letter to a family relation of his, in New York State.  I was most kindly sheltered there for a few days while I looked out for advertisements.  I found, however, that I must change my name, for the history of the Burkeville affair was copied into all the papers, and there were warnings against the two impostors, giving my maiden name likewise, as that in which my Zurich diploma had been made out.  This cut me off from all medical employment, and I had to think what else I could do, not that I cared much what became of me.  Seeing a notice that an assistant was wanted to colour and finish photographs, I thought my drawing, though only schoolroom work, might serve.  I applied, showed specimens, and was thought satisfactory.  I sent my address to Mr. Field, who had promised to let me know in case my husband made any attempt to trace me, or if I could find my way back to him, but up to this time I have heard absolutely nothing.  The few white days in my life are, however, when I get a cheering, comforting letter from him.  How I should once have laughed their phraseology to scorn, but then I did not know what reality meant, and they are the only balm of my life now, except mother’s little book, and what they have led me to.