rd the news; Hilda's face turned very
pale, and Judy and Babs, who were both in the room at the time, felt
that sort of wonder and perplexity which children do experience when
they know something is dreadfully wrong, but cannot in the least
understand what it is.

In the course of the morning Hilda went to her father in his study.

Her face was very white as she opened the door, some of the young soft
lines of her early youth seemed to have left it; her beautiful brown
eyes looked in a heavy sort of fashion out at the world from their dark
surroundings. She came up to her father, and put her hand on his
shoulder. He was bending over his desk, busily writing.

"What is the matter, Hilda?" he asked, glancing up at her with a quick
start, and an endeavor to make his voice sound as usual.

"I--I have come, father, to say that if you like, I--I will give up my
engagement to Jasper Quentyns."

Mr. Merton rose from his seat and put his arm round her neck.

"My dear child," he said, "it is my comfort to-day to know that you, at
least, are provided for. Quentyns is fairly well off. If he will take
you without any fortune, there is certainly no reason why you should not
go to him."

"Money can't make any difference to Jasper," said Hilda, just a little
proudly, although her lips trembled; "but I--it seems wrong that I
should be so happy when the rest of you are so miserable."

"Tut, tut!" said the Rector. "I shall get over this in time. I own that
just now the blow is so severe that I can scarcely quite realize it.
When I opened my eyes this morning, I was pleasantly conscious that I
was the possessor of a private income of quite two thousand a year; I
felt this fact in the comforts that surrounded me, and the ease which
filled my life. Except that small stipend which is represented by my
living, and which I have always hitherto devoted to the poor of the
flock, I am now reduced to nothing a year. My poor must divide my money
with me in future, that is all; I don't intend to be miserable when I
get accustomed to the change, Hilda. I must dismiss most of the
servants, and give up the carriage and horses, and live as a poor man
instead of a rich one; but I owe no man anything, my dear, and I have
not the least doubt there is a certain zest in poverty which will make
the new order of things agreeable enough when once I get used to it."

The tears gathered slowly in Hilda's eyes.

"I don't feel as if I could quite bear it,