lie as close to the stove as possible. He made dubious and uncertain
friends with the cat. He slept a great deal, he ate a great deal. As
the weeks flew on, he became fat, lazy-looking, and uninteresting.
Were it not for subsequent and previous conduct he would not have
been a dog worth writing about. So bad is prosperity for some!

But prosperous days were not the will of their heavenly Father for
these little pilgrims just yet, and their brief and happy sojourn
with kind Mrs. Moseley was to come to a rather sudden end.

Cecile, believing fully in the good clergyman's words, was waiting
patiently for that letter from France, which was to enable Maurice,
Toby, and herself to travel there in the very best way. Her little
heart was at rest. During the six weeks she remained with Mrs.
Moseley, she gained great strength both of body and mind.

She must find Lovedy. But surely Mr. Danvers was right and if she
had a grown person to go with her and her little brother, from how
many perils would they not be saved? She waited, therefore, quite
quietly for the letter that never came; meanwhile employing herself
in learning all she could about France. She was more sure than ever
now that Lovedy was there, for something seemed to tell her that
Lovedy and Susie were one. Of course this beautiful Susie had gone
back to France, and once there, Cecile would quickly find her. She
had now a double delight and pleasure in the hope of finding Lovedy
Joy. She would give her her mother's message, and her mother's
precious purse of gold. But she could do more than that. Lovedy's own
mother was dead. But there was another woman who cared for Lovedy
with a mother's warm and tender heart. Another woman who mourned for
the lost Susie she could never see, but for whom she kept a little