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48
THE DOOM OF THE PRYNNES.


She crept to Agnes, saying, " Nestie, dear ;
Don't you remember how I reared you, Nest ?
Your mother died ; she had the lighter fate."
"Yes, I remember."
Holy, calm, and sweet,
Came Agnes' words, as steals an Angelas
Across a battle-field.
" What was there wrong,
Was any one unkind ? "
" Yes, most unkind :
I had a doll ; oh, such a pretty one !
And it was lost ; they would not help me look."
" My sister died, an infant then this came."
So murmured Mark ; his mother rambled on,
" No one would search, and so I stole away ;
But still I cannot find it ; will you help ? "
" Yes, we will seek together ; let us go ;
We still may find it in the place you left."
So Agnes spoke, and wound her soft, firm arm
About the feeble, shrinking frame, as though
She fain would heal sick body and sick soul.