"I don't understand, my dear," murmured Mrs. Randal. "Granny Pierce said——"
"Oh, mother, don't you go setting that poor old creature's word against our Lily's here. She's told me the solid truth. Polly never fetched her yesterday; she never even saw her at the fair. I believe that child's word, mother, for she's never told you nor me a lie in her life yet."
"No more she has," said Mrs. Randal, stroking Lily's fair curls. "But, John, if that's so, why hasn't Polly been down here before now? I'm sure she must have known as I wanted her bad enough."
"She wasn't likely, mother, after the words as passed between her and me."
There was another painful minute of silence. Mr. Bland's kind eyes were full of tears as he watched his old scholar. Lily jumped suddenly down from Mrs. Randal's knee and clutched at John's hand.
"Come along!" she cried. "Let's go and fetch Polly."
John lifted her in his arms for a moment, then set her down on the floor. "Stop here, little one," he said.
Then he left the house, without another word to any of them, shutting the door and the gate sharply behind him.
"That matter will soon be settled, I trust," said the schoolmaster. "And now, my good friend, may I point out that your kettle is boiling over."