'And I am sure that's the truth. It is my business to reason with the girl,' murmured Mrs. Janet to herself, as she clambered up to her high seat with a struggle; 'she's got neither father nor mother, and a good bit of plain speaking does nobody any harm.'

'Gee up, Dobbin,' said Farmer Foster, shaking the horse's reins, and the next moment I stood at the cross roads, looking with wondering eyes after Mrs. Janet, who, driven by Farmer Foster himself, was disappearing in the high-backed gig round the well-known corner of the road to Morechester.

All the day I felt guilty whenever I met Master Caleb's eye, thinking that he would insist on knowing whither his sister had betaken herself in so unwonted a way. But he was quite satisfied with my first confused sentence about business, and Farmer Foster, and in truth seemed to have little heart for inquiring after anybody.

Afternoon came, but without bringing Mrs. Janet. Evening drew on, school broke up, and Master Caleb, who had kept hard at work all day, sat down with his head leaning on his hands, and gave himself up unresistingly to his sad thoughts.

At last, after I had stood for full an hour leaning over the garden gate, listening eagerly, but in vain, for the sound of wheels, one of the farm boys from Farmer Foster's came sauntering—taking his time about it too—over the stile and along the lane from Furzy Nook.

Mrs. Janet was there, and had sent for me. Conscious of being mixed up in a plot, and standing in wholesome awe of Mrs. Janet, I was dismayed when Master Caleb got up wearily, saying that if Janet was at the Farm he supposed he might as well go and fetch her home. Would not the secret of Mrs. Janet's journey come out somehow, if Master Caleb went with me? and then whatever was to become of me? Much troubled in mind, but quite unable to stop him, I followed his footsteps across the fields.

The sun was setting over Furzy Nook, reddening the old house and making its many lattice windows shine like gold.

Dame Foster met us at her garden gate, her apron, as of old, quite full of flowers. 'You are kindly welcome, Master Caleb,' she said; 'yes, your good sister is here; will you go in and speak to her?'

I ran on in front. 'Mrs. Janet,' I began, pushing open the parlour door in a great hurry, 'Master Caleb is come too, and——'

I stopped short, for there stood Dorothy.