ralysis, in some form or other, which
affects people's limbs--often making them useless."

"Like my legs?" asked Kitty, quickly.

Her father winced palpably. "Not just like that, darling; I wonder
what you are thinking of?"

"Mr. Allison's mother. She's very old and very deaf; and now she's had
a stroke. I heard some one tell Nurse so; and, of course, I must go
and ask about her when I go out; but I can't tell what to take her."

"I should think beef-tea will be the kind of thing she needs. Nurse
can say we will make her some if you like," said the rector, who always
humoured Kitty's fancy for taking sick people especially under her wing.

The day was a full one, and it was late in the afternoon before he
found himself rapping at the door of the house which adjoined the forge.

"Thank you, sir," said Mrs. Allison, in answer to his inquiry about her
mother-in-law; "she's a bit tired to-day, though going on as well as we
could hope. She's had a visitor this afternoon," with a glance round
at the chimney-corner from which Sally Lessing's tall, girlish figure
emerged rather shyly; "and if you did not mind looking in rather
earlier to-morrow she'd be ready to see you."

"Very good," said the rector. "If you'll name the time, I'll be here.
Miss Lessing, our way home lies in the same direction. Shall we walk
together?"

No excuse presented itself for refusing Mr. Curzon's offer, though a
_tete-a-tete_ with the rector was not much to her taste--especially as
her brother was a little sore about his last night's defeat.

"How are you taking to the life down here? Do you like it?" he asked,
as they started off together.

"I don't quite know," Sally said with a frank smile. "At first it was
delightful--a new experience,--but the novelty is wearing off. And
Paul said this morning that we were both of us fish out of water; that
he must stay here, at any rate for the present, but that I might please
myself."

"And what particular pond do you want to swim in?"

"London. And that's not to be described as a pond, is it? but rather a
great, strong river. You see, down here, there is literally nothing to
do."

"Plenty, if you choose to do it," replied Mr. Curzon, quietly.

Sally shook her head. "You would only want workers of your own way of
thinking."

"I should prefer them, certainly; if by _my_ way of thinking you mean
the Church to which I belong--to which you belong also, I expect."

"Only by name. I