26 A YEAR WITH NELLIE.

“He is dead,” she said with a kind of sob,
as she raised him so that his head should be
above water, holding him so as well as she
could with one arm, while with the other she
supported herself as she tried to make her way
towards the bank.

By this time, however, her limbs were get-
ting stiff with the cold, and, burdened as she
was, she could hardly move. The bank seemed
twice as far off as she had expected, and there
were no signs of Nellie coming with help. Her
lips formed a prayer, and then were firmly
closed as she summoned all her strength and
pushed forward, the water seeming to hold
her back always more and more.

How she came there she could never tell;
but certainly when aid arrived in the shape of
half a dozen farm labourers and Mr. Hargate,
the farmer himself, she was lying on the frost-
covered bank half insensible, and little Harry,
apparently dead, was by her side.