"Yes, Jography. But 'tis Lovedy. My stepmother said as I was to ask
for that sort of girl in all the small villages and all the tiny
inns, dear Jography,"

"Well, well, and so we will, darlin'; we'll ax yere first thing
to-morrow morning; and now lie down and go to sleep, for we must
be early on the march, Missie."

Cecile raised her lips to kiss Joe, and then she lay down by
Maurice's side. But she did not at once go to sleep. She was thanking
Jesus for sending to such a destitute, lonely little pair of children
so good and so kind a guide.

While Joe, for his part, wondered could it be possible that this
unknown Lovedy could have bluer eyes than Cecile's own.




CHAPTER IV.

THE WORD THAT SETTLED JOE BARNES.


From London to Paris is no distance at all. The most delicate
invalid can scarcely be fatigued by so slight a journey.

So you say, who go comfortably for a pleasure trip. You start at a
reasonably early hour in the morning, and arrive at your destination
in time for dinner. A few of you, no doubt, may dread that short hour