g and wanted to come to you. But I did go on crying. I cried
nearly all night, and when it got light I did dress myself, all but one
shoe and my hat, which I could not find, and I got out of the house to
look for you."

"And how did you find me, my poor little dear?"

"Oh, I heard mother say you was at the Vicarage, so I waited till I saw
a man, and asked him which way to go, and he did tell me to walk along
the cliff till I saw a long white house, and then when he saw that I had
no shoe he wanted to take me home, but I ran away till I got here. But
the blinds were down, so I did think that you were dead, daddie dear,
and I cried till that gentleman opened the window."

After that Geoffrey began to scold her for running away, but she did not
seem to mind it much, for she sat upon the edge of the couch, her little
face resting against his own, a very pretty sight to see.

"You must go back to Mrs. Jones, Effie, and tell your mother where you
have been."

"I can't, daddie, I've only got one shoe," she answered, pouting.

"But you came with only one shoe."

"Yes, daddie, but I wanted to come and I don't want to go back. Tell me
how you was drownded."

He laughed at her logic and gave way to her, for this little daughter
was very near to his heart, nearer than anything else in the world. So
he told her how he was "drownded" and how a lady had saved his life.

Effie listened with wide set eyes, and then said that she wanted to see
the lady, which she presently did. At that moment there came a knock at
the door, and Mr. Granger entered, accompanied by Dr. Chambers.

"How do you do, sir?" said the former. "I must introduce myself, seeing
that you are not likely to remember me. When last I saw you, you looked
as dead as a beached dog-fish. My name's Granger, the Reverend J.
Granger, Vicar of Bryngelly, one of the very worst livings on this
coast, and that's saying a great deal."

"I am sure, Mr. Granger, I'm under a deep debt of gratitude to you for
your hospitality, and under a still deeper one to your daughter, but I
hope to thank her personally for that."

"Never speak of it," said the clergyman. "Hot water and blankets don't
cost much, and you will have to pay for the brandy and the doctor. How
is he, doctor?"

"He is getting on very well indeed, Mr. Granger. But I daresay you find
yourself rather stiff, Mr. Bingham. I see your head is pretty badly
bruised."

"Yes," he answered, laughing, "and so is my body