felt that little bag of gold lying near her heart--suppose, oh!
suppose it got into Aunt Lydia's hands. Cecile felt that if this
happened, if in this way she was unfaithful to the vow she had made,
she should die.

"There are somethings as 'ud break any heart," she said to herself,
"and not to find Lovedy when I promised faithful, faithful to
Lovedy's mother as I would find her; why, that 'ud break my heart.
Father said once, when people had broken hearts they _died_, so
I 'ud die."

She began to consider already with great anxiety how she could hide
this precious money.

In the midst of her thoughts Maurice awoke, and Toby shook himself
and came round and looked into her face.

Toby was Maurice's own special property. He was Maurice's dog, and
he always stayed with him, slept on his bed at night, remained by his
side all day; but he had, for all his attachment for his little
master, looks for Cecile which he never bestowed upon Maurice. For
Maurice the expression in his brown eyes was simply protecting,
simply loving; but for Cecile that gaze seemed to partake of a higher
nature. For Cecile the big loving eyes grew pathetic, grew watchful,
grew anxious. When sitting very close to Maurice, apparently absorbed
in Maurice, he often rolled them softly round to the little girl.
Those eyes spoke volumes. They seemed to say, "You and I have the
care of this little baby boy. It is a great anxiety, a great
responsibility for us, but we are equal to the task. He is a dear
little fellow, but only a baby; you and I, Cecile, are his grown-up