122 THE COUSINS.

she repeated it: “ Fall—fall—He that is low—no
fall—no fall—no—He that is low, no fear ;’’ with
a perplexed expression of face she shook her
head, and muttered, ‘I can’t remember it.”

“ Does any one know what she wishes to say?”
asked Dr. Foster.

“Yes, sir. It is a verse Clara Nye said to us
the evening Cousin Lucy was taken ill.” Mary
Mowbray spoke as she had never before done to
a stranger; but she could not think of herself
now—she could only think of her cousin.

“ And can you repeat it, my dear?” asked Dr.
Foster.

“Yes, sir.”

“Then stand here, and repeat it slowly and
distinctly.”

You will say this was a great trial for a shy
child. It would have been, if the object had
been to exhibit hersclf—if the desire for praise
had entered into her motives; but again Mary’s
heart was full of her cousin, and without a mo-
ment’s hesitation she stepped gently to the place
Dr. Foster had pointed out, and repeated, as he
had desired her, slowly and distinctly,