faintest idea of the nature of the work which had just been
completed; and, further, that on this evening Robert was escorting his
mother to some entertainment, so that even if sent off at once a
telegram could not reach him until a late hour. Mrs Asplin turned her
white face from one speaker to the other, and, when the last word was
spoken, broke into a paroxysm of helpless weeping.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

THE SECRET CONFESSED.

"Something has happened! Something terrible has happened to the child!
And she was left in our charge. We are responsible. Oh, if any harm
has happened to Peggy, however, ever, ever, can I bear to live and send
the news to her parents--"

"My dearest, you have done your best; you could not have been kinder or
more thoughtful. No blame can attach to you. Remember that Peggy is in
higher hands than yours. However far from us she may be, she can never
stray out of God's keeping. It all seems very dark and mysterious,
but--"

At this moment a loud rat-tat-tat sounded on the knocker, and with one
accord the hearers darted into the hall, and stood panting and gasping,
while Arthur threw open the door.

"Telegram, sir!" said a sharp, young voice, and the brown envelope which
causes so much agitation in quiet households was thrust forward in a
small cold hand. Arthur looked at the address and handed it to the
vicar.

"It is for you, sir, but it cannot possibly be anything about--"

Mr Asplin tore open the envelope, glanced over the words, and broke
into an exclamation of amazement. "It is! It is from Peggy
herself!--`Euston Station. Returning by 10.30 train. Please meet me at
twelve o'clock.--Peggy.' What in the world does it mean?" He looked
round the group of anxious faces, only to see his own expression of
bewilderment repeated on each in turn.

"Euston! Returning! She is in London. She is coming back from town!"

"She ran away to London, to-night when she was so happy, when Arthur had
just arrived! Why? Why? Why?"

"She must have caught the seven o'clock train."

"She must have left the house almost immediately after going upstairs to
dress for dinner."

"Oh, father, why should she go to London?"

"I am quite unable to tell you, my dear," replied the vicar drily. He
looked at his wife's white, exhausted face, and his eyes flashed with
the "A-word-with-you-in-my-study" expression, which argued ill for Miss
Peggy's reception. Mrs Asplin, however, was too thank