once venturing to look behind her as
she crossed the sunny lawn.

Mrs. Joyce, and the young ladies, and the rector, all tried their best
to console little Mary; and all failed. She resolutely, though very
gently, resisted them; walking away into corners by herself, and looking
constantly at her slate, as if she could only find comfort in reading
the few words which Mrs. Peckover had written on it. At last, Mr. Blyth
took her up on his knee. She struggled to get away, for a moment--then
looked intently in his face; and, sighing very mournfully, laid her
head down on his shoulder. There was a world of promise for the future
success of Valentine's affectionate project in that simple action, and
in the preference which it showed.

The day wore on quietly--evening came--seven o'clock struck--then
half-past--then eight--and Mrs. Peckover never appeared. Doctor Joyce
grew uneasy, and sent Vance to the circus to get some news of her.

It was again Mr. Blyth--and Mr. Blyth only--who succeeded in partially
quieting little Mary under the heavy disappointment of not seeing Mrs.
Peckover at the appointed time. The child had been restless at first,
and had wanted to go to the circus. Finding that they tenderly, but
firmly, detained her at the Rectory, she wept bitterly--wept so long,
that at last she fairly cried herself asleep in Valentine's arms. He sat
anxiously supporting her with a patience that nothing could tire. The
sunset rays, which he had at first carefully kept from falling on her
face, vanished from the horizon; the quiet luster of twilight overspread
the sky--and still he refused to let her be taken from him; and said
he would sit as he was all through the night rather than let her be
disturbed.

Vance came back, and brought word that Mrs. Peckover would follow him
in half an hour. They had given her some work to do at the circus, which
she was obliged to finish before she could return to the Rectory.

Having delivered this message, Vance next produced a handbill, which he
said was being widely circulated all over Rubbleford; and which proved
to be the composition of Mr. Jubber himself. That ingenious ruffian,
having doubtless discovered that "legal law" was powerless to help him
to his revenge, and that it would be his wisest proceeding to keep clear
of Doctor Joyce in the rectory's magisterial capacity, was now artfully
attempting to turn the loss of the child to his own profit, by dint of
prompt lying in his fa