r we're tired of the affair, as isn't
ours, and never was by right. The child will soon be grown up, if it
lives, and it's getting stronger on its legs every day and will soon be
playing with the other children. We don't want it--we don't want it
any longer at Hawthorne, and we propose to find the parents and bestow
it again upon those to whom it originally belonged. That's what we
propose, and we look to you, sir, to help us."

"Whom do you suspect, or have you direct proof and knowledge?"
Ringfield, to whom the situation was full of anguish, could hardly
frame his sentences. "Pray recollect," he continued, "that in these
unhappy cases it is not always wise, not always necessary, to press the
matter home. I am a strong believer in the natural expiation that
people undergo who allow themselves to err in these directions; the
mere fact that the person or persons responsible for Angeel have had
her removed to a distant parish while still caring for her shows how
deeply the affair has been felt. I would not advise you to be hasty."

"'Asty--says you--'asty? After a matter of eight years? I'm sorry I
didn't begin before this," cried the exasperated storekeeper, holding
the virtues and morals of all Hawthorne as it were in his hand. "You
ask me if I suspect any one and I answer--that I do," and he huskily
whispered Miss Clairville's name.

Knowing what would be expected of him, Ringfield strove to appear even
more greatly shocked than he was, and retreated a step or two in
consternation.

"Be very careful," he managed to say sternly, "be extremely careful how
you thus refer to a lady who bears, I am told, a very high character in
her native place, even if she has been obliged to seek the town and the
theatre for her living."

"You 'ave not heard this mentioned before?"

"Never."

"But Miss Clairville attends your church?"

"She certainly has attended a few of the services, but I do not think
she has ever openly made a profession of the faith; she remains at
heart, I think, a Catholic. Perhaps," said Ringfield, lamely, "you
might see Father Rielle about this. As parish priest and as a friend
of her brother's he would be the proper person to advise you. And now,
having assured you that I know nothing more than I have learnt in the
last few moments from yourself, you must excuse me if I leave you. It
is late, and I perceive your wife and daughter are growing restless in
the hall. Are you driving back to