lva. She had written at once to Tom
at Whitbury, telling him that his belt and money were safe, but had
received no answer; and now she went to Whitbury herself, only to arrive
a week after Tom had gone. Mark Armsworth and Mary kept her for a night,
and she left Tom's money with the old banker, retaining the belt and
then set out Eastward Ho! too, to nurse the wounded in the war; and, if
possible, to find Tom and clear her name of all suspicion.

How Grace Harvey worked at Scutari and at Balaclava, there is no need to
tell. Why mark her out from the rest, when all did more than nobly? In
due time she went home to England--home, but not to Aberalva.

She presented herself one day at Mark Armsworth's house in Whitbury, and
begged him to obtain her a place as servant to old Dr. Thurnall. And by
the help of Mark, and Mary, Grace Harvey took up her abode in the old
man's house; and ere a month was past she was to him a daughter.

Mary loved her--wanted to call her sister; but Grace drew back lovingly,
but humbly, from all advances; for she had divined Mary's secret with
the quick eye of a woman. She saw how Mary grew daily paler, sadder. Be
it so; Mary had a right to him, and she had none.

* * * * *

And where was Tom Thurnall all the while? No man could tell.

Mark inquired; Lord Minchampstead inquired; great personages inquired;
but all in vain. A few knew, and told Lord Minchampstead, who told Mark,
in confidence, that he had been heard of last in the Circassian
Mountains about Christmas 1854; but since then all was blank.

The old man never seemed to regret him; and never mentioned his name
after a while. None knew it was because he and Grace never talked of
anything else. So they had lived, and so they had waited.

And now it is the blessed Christmas Eve; the light is failing fast; when
down the High Street comes Mark's portly bulk. The next minute he has
entered the old doctor's house, and is full of the afternoon's run, for
he has been out fox-hunting.

The old doctor is confident to-day that his son will return, and Grace
reassures him.

"Yes, he is coming soon to us," she half whispers, leaning over the old
man's chair. "Or else we are soon going to him. It may mean that, sir.
Perhaps it is better that it should."

"It matters little, child, if he be near, as near he is."

And sure enough while Mark is telling of the good run he has had, Tom's
fresh voice is heard. Yes! T