sudden determination to walk
home; he would gladly have seized his hat and run after his friend, but
he feared Mrs. Ambrose's curiosity and moreover on reflection felt sure
that the dog-cart would overtake Mr. Juxon before he was half way to the
cottage. He was very far from suspecting him of the absence of mind which
he actually displayed, but it was a great relief to him to see the little
party safe in the dog-cart and on the way homeward.

Mrs. Goddard was on the front seat with old Reynolds, and John, who would
have preferred to sit by her side a few months ago, was glad to find
himself behind with Nellie. It was a curious instinct, but he felt it
strongly and was almost grateful to the old man for stolidly keeping his
seat. So he sat beside Nellie and talked to her, to the child's intense
delight; she had not enjoyed the evening very much, for she felt the
general sense of oppression as keenly as children always feel such
things, and she had long exhausted the slender stock of illustrated books
which lay upon the table in the vicarage drawing-room.

"There is no more skating now," said John. "What do you do to amuse
yourselves?"

"I am studying history with mamma," answered Nellie, "and that takes ever
so much time, you know. And then--oh, we are beginning to think of the
spring, and we look after the violet plants in the frames."

"It does not feel much like spring," remarked John.

"No--and mamma has not been well lately, so we have not done much of
anything."

"Has she been ill long?" asked John.

"No--oh no! Only the last two or three days, ever since--" Nellie stopped
herself. Her mother had told her not to mention the tramp's visit.

"Ever since when?" asked John, becoming suddenly interested.

"Ever since the last time the Ambroses came to tea," said Nellie with a
readiness beyond her years. "But she looks dreadfully, does not she?"

"Dreadfully," answered John. Then, leaning back and turning his head he
spoke to Mrs. Goddard. "I hope you are quite warm enough?" he said.

"Quite--thanks," answered she, but her voice sounded tremulous in the
night. It might have been the shaking of the dog-cart. In a few minutes
they drew up before the door of the cottage. John sprang to the ground
and almost lifted Mrs. Goddard from the high seat.

"Where is Mr. Juxon?" she asked anxiously.

John looked round, peering into the gloom. A black cloud driven by the
strong east wind was passing over the moon, and fo