with redoubled force. She saw, too, that her grandmother was watching her with uneasy glances, and her heart sunk appalled at the task she had set herself; yet she never for one moment thought of relinquishing her purpose.
And the grandmother, on her part, noticed Alice's furtive, uneasy glances at her, and knew the dreaded hour was at hand, and braced herself to meet it.
"I laid awake nearly all night last night, grandmother," said Alice, at length, beginning afar off; "I could not sleep for thinking—my visit was such a sad one."
"I dinna doot it," replied Mistress Campbell, gravely. "Ye had a lang, weary walk, an' a varry mournfu' visit; I wad na' wonder ye could na' sleep."
"No, indeed. I seemed to live it all over again—I could not forget it; and I got my eyes so wide open, it seemed as if I should never sleep again. And then, grandmother"—and here, in spite of all her efforts to keep it steady, the poor child's voice trembled a little, and she was sure her grandmother noticed it—"and then I thought of what those women said to me in the street."
