Alice was not angry with her father, and she
would not allow him to be angry with her.

"Come, father, you know you won't sleep
if you don't," she said audaciously. As he
looked up, intending to rebuke her very
seriously, she put her two rosy hands one on
either side of his face; and, telling him he
looked as savage as a bear, inflicted half-a-
dozen kisses on his wrinkled forehead, and
made her escape before he could recover from
his surprise sufficiently to scold her as she
deserved.

III.

THERE was no allusion made to what had
passed the night before, when they met the
next morning. Peter swallowed his breakfast
scalding hot that he might have a few
minutes to look over certain accounts
connected with the school; but, while he was
thus engaged, the nine o'clock bell rang, and
he left them strewn on his table in company
with a little black box decorated with
perforated brass ornaments; from the lock of
which hung his bunch of keys.

"There'll be nobody in here but you, Alice,
so those papers will be all safe," were his
words to his daughter as he went out
hurriedly. She just answered, "Yes, father,"
and went on with her work without even
glancing to see what they were.

The morning was about half spent, and
Alice had twice had the satisfaction of giving
Richard Preston a smiling recognition from
the window, when there was a knock at the
door, and an old woman's voice asked, without,
if there was anybody at home? "Yes, I'm
here, Nanny, come in," responded Alice:
"what is it you want this morning?"

"O bairn! I've come to you for comfort;
for I says if Alice Garnet can't help me she'll
pity me, an' I know you will," said Nanny,
dropping into the nearest chair, and pulling
out a little ragged pocket-handkerchief in
readiness for tears. Alice knew that Nancy
was a thoroughly unscrupulous old canter;
but, as she appeared now to be in real
distress, she asked again what she wanted.

"I mustn't go nigh-hand Mark to disgrace
him, so I thought I'd come here, and get you
to speak to him instead."

"But I'd rather not, Nanny: Mark and I
are not on the best terms—tell me your
trouble, however."

"You'll remember my grandson Willie's
'listing at Whitsun-fair? Well, he's written
me to beg I'll buy him off, an' how I'm to
raise t'money I don't know—if I'd only
another six pounds to my bit o' savings I could
do it—will you ask Mark for me, bairn?"

"No, Nanny; you must ask him yourself,
if you don't think it better to leave Willie
where he is. He will get used to soldiering
by and bye."

"Not he; he's a delicate lad—an', besides,
he's my pet, is Willie—I like to have his face
at t'fireside o'nights."

"You used to say he was a sad ne'er-do-
weel, Nanny, and to prophesy bitterly enough
that he'd come to a bad end."

Nanny groaned: "Ay, that was what drove
him fra' home: but he'd be fain to corne back
now. Will you ask Mark for me?"

"No, Nanny; I told you before I would
not; but I will give you a trifle myself towards
making up what you want," and, laying down
her work carefully on her chair, she went
away to her chest of drawers in her bedroom
for her little purse. She was absent for
several minutes; because, when she got into
her room she heard the tinkling of bells, and
there was the laden Fordham wagon making
another progress up the High Street. Going
down, at last, she found Nanny weeping into
the rag as if her eyes were fountains. The
old woman had, all at once, become very
scrupulous about accepting the girl's half-
crown; asking her if it really was her own to
give, and if Peter Garnet would not miss it?

"It is my own earnings, Nanny; so take
it without more ado, and get away, for
I'm busy. The old woman expanded into
blessings and moral aphorisms; in the midst
of which Alice unceremoniously shut her out
upon the stairs.

The Fordham wagon was up and down
the High Street ever so many times that
day; and once it had to stop at Saint Ann's
gateway to deliver a sack of flour. Very
likely Alice had something to do with the
receiving of it; for Mrs. Hart, coming
in to see her for a few minutes at twelve
o'clock, asked if she had been making a
pudding with her hands tied behind her; for
there was a trace of meal all round her
waist? O, dear no! she had not been making
a pudding or a pie either. How could it have
got there? However that might be, Alice
was in the blithest spirits all day!

Peter retired to his table at night, and bade
Alice give him a candle; as he wanted to get
the school accounts finished making up for the
quarterly audit next Monday. She did as she
was bid; and then, as it was not nearly dark,
she treated herself to an idle half-hour at the
window, watching the few passers-by with a
good deal of interest. Presently she saw
Peggie Hartop's brilliant feather and flounce,
flourishing up the street, and in close attendance
upon it, Mark Liversedge; his whole
person contorted either with civility or
spasms, until he looked as if he were strung
on wires that had got twisted out of all order.
Peggie was brandishing her head, and looking
mightily dignified and condescending towards
the young man. "Oh, you pretty pair! I
wish you would bewitch each other!" said
Alice, half-aloud. "I should like to make
your wedding-bonnet, Peggie Hartop!"

Meanwhile, Peter Garnet was puzzling his
wits over some refractory figures. Alice
had shut the window, and had begun to clear
one end of the table, for the purpose of laying
the supper-cloth.