for stockings, but it turned out that the Lamonts considered it next
door to heresy to take payment from the priest's house, and Penny's
charitable attempts were frustrated. She found it better to "borrow" a
few eggs occasionally (even though she was not in great need of them),
and to more than pay their value in little presents--an acknowledgment
of the kindness of the lenders.

"The very thing for the Lamonts!" exclaimed Val at breakfast one
morning. He had been reading his letters, just delivered, and I was
glancing through that day's paper. I looked up in token of interest.

"I have an application from the Inspector of the Poor," he continued,
"for a quiet, reliable family, who would be willing to take charge, for
payment, of a poor daft fellow. He is about thirty, and has been in
this state since he was eighteen, when he had a bad fever. He is
perfectly tractable, quite inoffensive, and thoroughly good-tempered.
The only reason for moving him from his present home is that it is in a
village, and the children tease and annoy him. I fancy the Lamonts
would jump at the opportunity."

I quite agreed with him. To my mind, Robina Lamont was a match for a
far more dangerous character. She would be equal in strength to many
an able-bodied man. But I felt doubtful whether the arrangement would
be satisfactory as regarded the old widow. She was so helpless that
unless the man was actually as harmless as was supposed it might he
risky to place him in such a house. I voiced my objection, but Val was
not impressed by it. He had great confidence in the judgment of the
Inspector--a thoroughly able man, and shrewd withal.

When the question was proposed to the Lamonts they at once warmed to