her little hand shyly towards him. John took it and grew redder than ever
as he felt that the lady was watching him. Then the little girl blushed
and laughed in her small embarrassment, and climbed into the carriage.

"You will write, then?" asked Mr. Ambrose as he shut the door.

"Yes--and thank you again. You are very, very kind to me," answered the
lady, and John thought that as she spoke there were tears in her voice.
She seemed very unhappy and to John she seemed very beautiful. Muggins
cracked his whip and the fly moved off, leaving the vicar and his pupil
standing together at the iron wicket gate before the house.

"Well? Do you think Angleside got through?" asked Mr. Ambrose, rather
anxiously.

Short said he thought Angleside was safe. He hoped the vicar would say
something about the lady, but to his annoyance, he said nothing at all.
John could not ask questions, seeing it was none of his business and was
fain to content himself with thinking of the lady's face and voice. He
felt very uncomfortable at dinner. He thought the excellent Mrs. Ambrose
eyed him with unusual severity, as though suspecting what he was thinking
about, and he thought the vicar's grey eye twinkled occasionally with the
pleasant sense of possessing a secret he had no intention of imparting.
As a matter of fact Mrs. Ambrose was supremely unconscious of the fact
that John had seen the lady, and looked at him with some curiosity,
observing that he seemed nervous and blushed from time to time and was
more silent than usual. She came to the conclusion that he had been
working too hard, as usual, and that night requested him to take two
little pellets of aconite, and to repeat the dose in the morning. Whether
it was the result of the homoeopathic medicine or of the lapse of a few