ith rude mockery a temple in ruins,--if still left
there the altar.

CHAPTER XIX.

Very well so far as it goes.

MR. HARTOPP.--"I cannot presume to question you further, Mr. Chapman.
But to one of your knowledge of the world, I need not say that your
silence deprives me of the power to assist yourself. We'll talk no more
of that."

WAIFE.--"Thank you, gratefully, Mr. Mayor."

MR. HARTOPP.--"But for the little girl, make your mind easy,--at least
for the present. I will place her at my farm cottage. My bailiff's
wife, a kind woman, will take care of her, while you pursue your calling
elsewhere. As for this money, you will want it yourself; your poor
little child shall cost you nothing. So that's settled. Let me come up
and see her. I am a bit of a doctor myself. Every man blest with a
large family, in whose house there is always some interesting case of
small-pox, measles, whooping-cough, scarlatina, etc., has a good private
practice of his own. I'm not brilliant in book-learning, Mr. Chapman.
But as to children's complaints in a practical way," added Hartopp, with
a glow of pride, "Mrs. H. says she'd rather trust the little ones to me
than to Dr. Gill. I'll see your child, and set her up I'll be bound.
But now I think of it," continued Hartopp, softening more and more, "if
exhibit you must, why not stay at Gatesboro' for a time? More may be
made in this town than elsewhere."

"No, no; I could not have the heart to act here again without her. I
feel at present as if I can never again act at all!"

"Something else will turn up. Providence is so kind to me, Mr. Mayor."

Waife turned to the door. "You will come soon?" he said anxiously.

The Mayor, who had been locking up his ledgers and papers, replied, "I
will but stay to give some orders; in a quarter of an hour I shall be at
your hotel."

CHAPTER XX.

Sophy hides heart and shows temper.

The child was lying on a sofa drawn near the window in her own room, and
on her lap was the doll Lionel had given to her. Carried with her in her
wanderings, she had never played with it; never altered a ribbon in
its yellow tresses; but at least once a day she had taken it forth and
looked at it in secret. And all that morning, left much to herself,
it had been her companion. She was smoothing down its frock, which
she fancied had got ruffled,--smoothing it down with a sort of fearful
tenderness, the doll all the while staring her full in the face with