that he meant to
put in an appearance; but I am afraid the poor boy will find himself
_de trop_ among so many ladies."

Edgar was the youngest Paine,--a tall Eton boy, who looked as though
he would soon be too big for jackets, and an especial friend of
Nan's.

"How good of you to come and say good-bye, Gar!" she said summoning
him to her side, as the boy looked round him blushing and half
terrified. "What have you got there under your jacket?"

"It is the puppy I promised you," returned Edgar, eagerly; "don't you
know?--Nell's puppy? Father said I might have it." And he deposited a
fat black retriever puppy at Nan's feet. The little beast made a
clumsy rush at her and then rolled over on its back. Nan took it up
in high delight, and showed it to her mother.

"Isn't it good of Gar, mother? and when we all wanted a dog so! We
have never had a pet since poor old Juno died; and this will be such a
splendid fellow when he grows up. Look at his head and curly black
paws; and what a dear solemn face he has got!"

"I am glad you like him," replied Edgar, who was now perfectly at his
ease. "We have christened him 'Laddie:' he is the handsomest puppy of
the lot, and our man Jake says he is perfectly healthy." And then, as
Nan cut him some cake, he proceeded to enlighten her on the treatment
of this valuable animal.

The arrival of "Laddie" made quite a diversion, and, when the
good-byes were all said, Nan took the little animal in her arms and
went with Phillis for the last time to gather flowers in the Longmead
garden, and when the twilight came on the three girls went slowly
through the village, bidding farewell to their old haunts.

It was all very sad, and nobody slept much that night in the cottage.
Nan's tears were shed very quietly, but they fell thick and fast.

"Oh, Dick, it is hard--hard!" thought the poor girl, burying her face
in the pillow; "but I have not let you know the day, so you will not
be thinking of us. I would not pain you for worlds, Dick, not more
than I can help." And then she dried her eyes and told herself that
she must be brave for all their sakes to-morrow; but, for all her good
resolutions, sleep would not come to her any more than it did to
Phillis, who lay open-eyed and miserable until morning.

CHAPTER XIII.

"I MUST HAVE GRACE."

When the Rev. Archibald Drummond was nominated to the living of
Hadleigh in Sussex, it was at once understood by his family that he
had achieved