her up to him
who, likely enough, would not accept the offer when it was made to him?
But I always intended to make it some day. It was my duty to give her
the chance at least; but I kept on putting off the day, till that
Saturday when she was so nearly drowned; then I saw my duty before me."

"I had, from the first, put aside a hundred pounds, to give her more of
an education than I could do; but if it hadn't been for that fall into
the sea, it might have been years before I carried out my plan. Then I
saw it could not go on any longer. She was getting too old and too bold
to sit quiet while I was showing my box. She had had a narrow escape,
and who could say what might happen the next time she got into
mischief? Then I bethought me that the squire was growing old, and that
it was better not to put it off too long. So, ma'am, I came to you and
made up my mind to put her with you."

"And you had your way," Mrs. Walsham said, smiling, "though it was with
some difficulty."

"I expected it would be difficult, ma'am; but I made up my mind to
that, and had you kept on refusing I should, as a last chance, have
told you whose child she was."

"But why me?" Mrs. Walsham asked. "Why were you so particularly anxious
that she should come to me, of all people?"

The sergeant smiled.

"It's difficult to tell you, ma'am, but I had a reason."

"But what was it?" Mrs. Walsham persisted.

The sergeant hesitated.

"You may think me an old fool, ma'am, but I will tell you what fancy
came into my mind. Your son saved Aggie's life. He was twelve years
old, she was five, seven years' difference."

"Why, what nonsense, sergeant!" Mrs. Walsham broke in with a laugh.
"You don't mean to say that fancy entered your head!"

"It did, ma'am," Sergeant Wilks said gravely. "I liked the look of the
boy much. He was brave and modest, and a gentleman. I spoke about him
to the fishermen that night, and everyone had a good word for him; so I
said to myself, 'I can't reward him for what he has done directly, but
it may be that I can indirectly.'

"Aggie is only a child, but she has a loving, faithful little heart,
and I said to myself, 'If I throw her with this boy, who, she knows,
has saved her life, for two years, she is sure to have a strong
affection for him.'

"Many things may happen afterwards. If the squire takes her they will
be separated. He may get to care for someone, and so may she, but it's
just giving him a chance.

"Then,