storm if you liked."

"How?"

"Marry that little doll Thornton, and get her money."

"Well," said George, "I am pushing that on. The old man won't come
round, and I want her to go off with me; but she can't get up her
courage yet."

But in a few days Mary had consented. They had left the village at
midnight, and were married in London. Within a year George Hawker had
spent all his wife's money, and had told her to her face he was tired of
her. He fell from bad to worse, and finally becoming the ally of a
coiner, was arrested and transported for life.

Mary Hawker, with a baby, tramped her way home to the village she had
left.

_II.--A General Exodus_

The vicar had only slowly recovered from the fit in which he had fallen
on the morning of Mary's departure, to find himself hopelessly
paralytic. When Mary's letter, written just after her marriage, came, it
was a great relief. They had kept from him all knowledge of George
Hawker's forgery, which had been communicated to them by Major Buckley,
old John Thornton's very good friend and near neighbour.

But George' Hawker burnt the loving letters they wrote in reply, and
Mary remained under the impression that they had cast her off. So when,
one bright Sunday morning, old Miss Thornton found a poor woman sitting
on the doorstep, Mary rose, prepared to ask forgiveness. Her aunt rushed
forward wildly, and hugged her to her honest heart.

When they were quieted, Miss Thornton went up to tell the vicar. The
poor old man was far gone beyond feeling joy or grief to any great
extent. Mary, looking in, saw he was so altered she hardly knew him.

The good news soon got up to Major Buckley's, and he was seen striding
up the path, leading the pony carrying his wife and child. While they
were still busy welcoming Mary came a ring at the door. Who but her
cousin, Tom Troubridge? Who else was there to raise her four good feet
from the floor and call her his darling little sister?

This was her welcome home--to the home she had dreaded to come to, where
she had meant to come only as a penitent, to leave her child and go
forth to die.

After dinner, Mrs. Buckley told Mary all the news, how her husband had
heard from Stockbridge, how he and Hamlyn were so flourishing, and had
written such an account of the country that Major Buckley, half
persuaded before, had now made up his mind to go there himself, and Tom
Troubridge was much inclined to go too. Mary was sad to think o