her friends whispered together at the door.

"We shall gee you again the day after to-morrow, Sunday," said Lady
Eleanor, as they prepared to start. "We are going to Ashleigh Church,
and will lunch at Mr. Smith's--he says you always stay for
Sunday-school."

"Yes," said Elsie, "that is very nice, and I'll be sure to be
out--unless gran is too bad," she added, anxiously glancing towards the
bed.

Sunday came, and there was quite an excitement at Ashleigh Church when
the clumsy hired carriage from Ballycastle drove up, and the two ladies
appeared.

The Rev. Cooper Smith, who had been popping his head out of the vestry
door off and on for the last ten minutes, was in readiness to receive
his guests, and then retired to have as much time as possible for a
last look at the specially prepared sermon. Mrs. Cooper Smith was too
anxious about the lunch to go to church, but all the rest of the family
were assembled in full force. Elsie, however, did not put in an
appearance, and the absence of her fine voice left a sad gap in the
somewhat too elaborate service that had been, got up for the occasion.

After service was over the clergyman took his guests to see poor Elsie
Damer's grave. Lady Eleanor suggested that something should be added
to the inscription, setting forth the way in which the name had been
discovered. How this should be done was the subject of conversation
during the walk to the rectory. There they found Elsie just arrived.
Mrs. McAravey had been much worse all Saturday, and Elsie could not get
away in time for church. She had only come now because the dying woman
had expressed a wish to see Mr. Smith. This news cast a shadow over
the party. Elsie remained for luncheon, on Mr. Smith's promising to be
ready to start immediately after, when the returning carriage could
bring them a considerable distance on the way, dropping them at a point
not more than two miles from Tor Bay.

"I must say good-bye now," said Lady Eleanor, drawing Elsie aside as
they left the dining-room; "I cannot tell you how glad we are to have
found you, and to have found you so like your dear mother too. It is
too bad papa and mamma cannot see you, as we must leave to-morrow; but
we shall meet again soon."

"I do not know about that," replied poor Elsie, almost breaking down.

"My dear child, you do not think we are going to let you be lost again!
And this is what I want to say to you, Elsie, dear: will you promise to
come o