"Bee!"—she said instantly.
A slight figure bent over her in the darkness, and a smothered voice murmured—
"I'm come—to say—good-night."
Amy held her in a long close clasp. Neither could speak at first; and one tiny sob might be heard from Bee.
"And you forgive me, my darling!"
"I—had to! I—couldn't say my prayers. I couldn't say—Forgive me—as—"
Bee broke down.
[CHAPTER XXII]
"COULDN'T BE TIED!"
"I REALLY did think that dear boy had more sense," quoth Mrs. Miles, as her busy fingers arranged rows of tucks in a small frock. Two little maidens of seven and eight brightened the Vicarage home, and she made all their clothes herself.