a clever boy who was not
afraid of work, and the vicar discovered in himself an unsuspected
genius for teaching. Arthur's progress not only filled him with
delight, but brought the offer of other pupils, so that he was but the
forerunner of a succession of bright, handsome boys, who came from far
and wide to be prepared for college, and to make their home at the
vicarage. They were honest, healthy-minded lads, and Mrs Asplin loved
them all, but no one had ever taken Arthur Saville's place. During the
year which he had spent under her roof he had broken his collar-bone,
sprained his ankle, nearly chopped off the top of one of his fingers,
scalded his foot, and fallen crash through a plate-glass window. There
had never been one moment's peace or quietness; she had gone about from
morning to night in chronic fear of a disaster; and, as a matter of
course, it followed that Arthur was her darling, ensconced in a little
niche of his own, from which subsequent pupils tried in vain to oust
him.

Mrs Saville dwelt upon the latest successes of her clever son with a
mother's pride, and his second mother beamed, and smiled, and cried, "I
told you so!"

"Dear boy!"

"Of course he did!" in delighted echo. But when she came to the second
half of the letter her face changed, and she grew grave and anxious.
"And now, dear Mr Asplin," Mrs Saville wrote, "I come to the real
burden of my letter. I return to India in autumn, and am most anxious
to see Peggy happily settled before I leave. She has been at this
Brighton school for four years, and has done well with her lessons, but
the poor child seems so unhappy at the thought of returning, that I am
sorely troubled about her. Like most Indian children, she has had very
little home life, and after being with me for the last six months she
dreads the prospect of school, and I cannot bear the thought of sending
her back against her will. I was puzzling over the question yesterday,
when it suddenly occurred to me that perhaps you, dear Mr Asplin, could
help me out of my difficulty. Could you--would you, take her in hand
for the next three years, letting her share the lessons of your own two
girls? I cannot tell you what a relief and joy it would be to feel that
she was under your care. Arthur always looks back on the year spent
with you as one of the brightest of his life; and I am sure Peggy would
be equally happy. I write to you from force of habit, but really I
think this le