, should prove the sincerity of his sympathy for the
poor child, by such a proposal as I have now communicated to you."

"Don't ask me to say yes to it, sir!" pleaded Mrs. Peckover, with
tears in her eyes. "Don't ask me to do that! Anything else to prove my
gratitude for your kindness to us; but how can I part from my own little
Mary? You can't have the heart to ask it of me!"

"I have the heart, Mrs. Peckover, to feel deeply for your distress at
the idea of parting from the child; but, for her sake, I must again ask
you to control your feelings. And, more than that, I must appeal to you
by your love to her, to grant a fair hearing to the petition which I now
make on Mr. Blyth's behalf."

"I would, indeed, if I could, sir,--but it's just because I love her so,
that I can't! Besides, as you yourself said, he's a perfect stranger."

"I readily admit the force of that objection on your part, Mrs.
Peckover; but let me remind you, that I vouch for the uprightness of his
character, and his fitness to be trusted with the child, after twenty
years' experience of him. You may answer to that, that I am a stranger,
too; and I can only ask you, in return, frankly to accept my character
and position as the best proofs I can offer you that I am not unworthy
of your confidence. If you placed little Mary for instruction (as you
well might) in an asylum for the deaf and dumb, you would be obliged to
put implicit trust in the authorities of that asylum, on much the same
grounds as those I now advance to justify you in putting trust in me."

"Oh, sir! don't think--pray don't think I am unwilling to trust you--so
kind and good as you have been to us to-day--and a clergyman too--I
should be ashamed of myself, if I could doubt--"

"Let me tell you, plainly and candidly, what advantages to the child Mr.
Blyth's proposal holds out. He has no family of his own, and his wife
is, as he has hinted to you, an invalid for life. If you could only see
the gentleness and sweet patience with which she bears her affliction,
you would acknowledge that little Mary could appeal for an affectionate
welcome to no kinder heart than Mrs. Blyth's. I assure you most
seriously, that the only danger I fear for the child in my friend's
house, is that she would be spoilt by excessive indulgence. Though by no
means a rich man, Mr. Blyth is in an independent position, and can offer
her all the comforts of life. In one word, the home to which he is ready
to take he