hat instead of waiting till towards twelve o'clock to go into
Fairview, he had got Mr. Yorke to finish his parish business for him,
and had started off at once, accepting a lift from Mr. Rawson by the
way. And when he added quietly, 'You will take care that she is never
made uneasy again by any thoughtlessness on your part, Jessie!' the
little girl answered, 'Yes, father,' in a very subdued and humble tone,
and felt quite as sorry as if he had lectured her for an hour.

'Do you think Mr. Yorke will be at home again now? Might I run in for a
minute, father?' said Cecil as they passed the curate's lodging.

'I am not sure; you can see if you like.' And Cecil _did_ see; and
finding his friend busily engaged sermon-writing in the queer little
dining-room, tarried only for a few words.

'I suppose father has told you,' he said as he burst in.

'Yes, I am _so_ glad;' and Cecil's inky little paw was enfolded in the
curate's heartiest grasp.

'I shan't forget this week in a hurry,' the boy continued; 'but I'm not
so very sorry now that it all happened. Thank you for that nice Sunday.'

He did not say, but he implied how much it had helped him through; and
Mr. Yorke answered cheerily, 'I could have sympathized more if I had
known all that I know now; but I don't think you wanted pity. I believe
your father's sermon showed you the way to bear your trouble.'

Cecil's cheeks were burning, and he only said shyly, 'You showed me
too;' and then hastily adding, 'I want to catch up with father before he
gets home,' ran off again, after one more hearty shake of the hand had
been exchanged between them.

If the memory of pain could be effaced by after-happiness, the remainder
of this day would have amply sufficed to blot out the past week. Never
did Cecil feel more glad than when his mother kissed him, called him her
own darling boy, and at his request forgave Jessie's escapade, and gave
her and Frances a week's holiday, that he might have as much of their
company as he chose. And on the following Sunday, when he took his place
in the choir again, and Mr. Yorke came to dinner at the Rectory, and all
was thankful rejoicing, that sorrowful Sunday on which he had felt as if
the whole world were against him seemed already far away.

The trial was gone by, and some of the effects it had left behind it
were very pleasant. But for it, Cecil felt he never could have known Mr.
Yorke so well, nor his own little sister Jessie. They were his