ackie.
It was not like her to change her mind about such an important matter
for any slight cause.

"I'm afraid you and Jackie have been quarrelling," she said, stroking
Mary's hair gently; "but if I were you I should take this opportunity of
making it up. Give him the squirrel and be friends, and then you'll be
happy again."

How Mary wished she could! She made no answer, only sobbed more
bitterly, and felt that she was the most miserable child in the world.

For now she had no longer any hope. Evidently nothing would happen to
discover the gypsies and save the chickens. The days went on with cruel
quickness, and Monday would be here in no time--a black Monday indeed.

Sunday morning came, and she sat with those thoughts in her mind by Mrs
Vallance's side, and looked round at all the well-known objects in
church with a half feeling that one of them might help her. They were
such old friends. From the painted window opposite the twelve apostles
in their gorgeous coloured robes had gazed seriously down at her every
Sunday for the last five years. Much study of them during sermon time,
though she always tried to attend, had made her quite familiar with
their faces, and to-day she fancied that Peter would be the one she
would choose to ask for advice and assistance. Turning from these her
eye fell on another acquaintance of her earliest childhood--the
life-size stone figure of a man. He lay in a niche in the chancel,
peacefully at rest on his side, with closed eyes and one hand under his
cheek. He had a short peaked beard and wore an enormous ruff; his face
looked very grave and quiet--so quiet that it always filled Mary with a
sort of awe. He had lain there for more than three hundred years,
undisturbed by pain, or trouble, or joy. Would he be sorry for her, she
wondered, if he knew how unhappy she was? But no--he would not mind--
his calm face would not alter; "nothing matters any more," it seemed to
say. There was no comfort for her there. With a sigh she turned a
little to the right where the Chelwoods sat--the Squire and Mrs
Chelwood in front, and Fraulein with the children behind. Restless
Jackie, to whom it was torture to sit still so long, was not ready as
usual to catch her eye, for he was following with breathless interest,
which Patrick shared, the progress of a large black spider towards
Fraulein's ungloved hand. Fraulein was very frightened of spiders, and
there was every reason to hope th