ful to know of
the girl's safety to have any thought for herself. She began to smile,
with the tears still running down her face, and to draw long breaths of
relief and satisfaction.

"It's no use trying to guess at that, Millie dear. It is enough for me
to know that she is alive and well. We shall just have to try and
compose ourselves in patience until we hear Peggy's own explanation.
Let me see! There is nearly an hour before you need set out. What can
we do to pass the time as quickly as possible?"

"Have some coffee, I should say! None of us have had too much dinner,
and a little refreshment would be very welcome after all this strain,"
said Arthur promptly, and Mrs Asplin eagerly welcomed the suggestion.

"That's what I call a really practical proposal! Ring the bell, dear,
and I will order it at once. I am sure we shall all have thankful
hearts while we drink it." She looked appealingly at Mr Asplin as she
spoke; but there was no answering smile on his face, and the lines down
his cheeks looked deeper and grimmer than ever.

"Oh, goody, goody, goodness, aren't I glad I am not Peggy!" sighed
Mellicent to herself; while Arthur Saville pursed his lips together, and
thought, "Poor little Peg! She'll catch it. I've never seen the
dominie look so savage. This is a nice sort of treat for a fellow who
has been ordered away for rest and refreshment! I wish the next two
hours were safely over."

Wishing, unfortunately, however, can never carry us over the painful
crises of our lives. We have to face them as best we may, and Arthur
needed all his cheery confidence to sustain him during the damp walk
which followed, when the vicar tramped silently by his side, his shovel
hat pulled over his eyes, his mackintosh coat flapping to and fro in the
wind.

They reached the station in good time, and punctually to the minute the
lights of the London express were seen in the distance. The train drew
up, and among the few passengers who alighted the figure of Peggy, in
her scarlet-trimmed hat, was easily distinguished. She was assisted out
of the carriage by an elderly gentleman, in a big travelling coat, who
stood by her side as she looked about for her friends. As Mr Asplin
and Arthur approached, they only heard his hearty, "Now you are all
right!" and Peggy's elegant rejoinder, "Exceedingly indebted to you for
all your kindness!" Then he stepped back into the carriage, and she
came forward to meet them, half