"I have had it in my mind too," said Annie. "A thing of that sort happening does make one think. It makes death seem so much nearer, and life so much smaller. Oh, I do think it ought to make one very very earnest in seeking Christ, in praying Him to forgive us and make us His own; and in giving up ourselves to live only for Him. And I am hoping that perhaps our Sunday afternoons together will be a help to all of us."
Half-an-hour later Nancy wended her way homewards, to find her parents alone. The "little ones" had not yet returned.
"Well, Nannie?" her father said.
"I'm going to the Rectory, father. Miss Wilmot means to have a small class herself; of just a few girls; and I do think I shall like it. Miss Wilmot is such a sweet young lady; she don't seem to have a bit of pride. I do love her already."
"Hallo, my girl, you're going on fast! Forsaking old friends for new ones already!"
"O no, father, please don't say that. I couldn't forsake old friends, and I love everybody at home as much as ever."
Littleburgh was not yet "home" to the Dunns.
"But I do think Miss Wilmot is sweet, and I'm so glad she will have the class herself."
[CHAPTER XIII.]
MISSING.