

### About the Book

It was a wild, cold night. The wind caught up the dry dead leaves and whirled them round the walls of the house, and along the deserted garden walks. Within the pleasant, comfortable, old-fashioned Manor House the lights had been extinguished by the sleepy servants an hour ago, all save the tall wax candles on the dining room table. Standing near that blazing fire was a woman, small, thin, and wrinkled-faced. Her sharp, loud voice was giving utterance to vindictive, scornful words, as her wrathful glance fell upon a young girl sitting with bowed head on the other side of the hearth.

As the torrent of angry words flowed faster and faster, so the girl's head drooped lower and lower, until the hard eyes watching her could no longer witness the effect produced by those harsh, cruel speeches.

Thus begins the story of Marjorie Mowbray, Miss Maria Macnab, and Mr. Absalom Marsh, "soap and candle-maker to the Queen," editor of a paper called Cleanliness, and "the greatest and most religious man in the town of Market Hawley."

### The Secret of

### Ashton Manor House

### by

### Eliza Kerr

White Tree Publishing

Abridged Edition

Original book first published c1884

This abridged edition ©Chris Wright 2018

e-Book ISBN: 978-1-912529-11-7

Published by

White Tree Publishing

Bristol

UNITED KINGDOM

wtpbristol@gmail.com

Full list of books and updates on

www.whitetreepublishing.com

The Secret of Ashton Manor House is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this abridged edition.

### Table of Contents

Cover

About the Book

Introduction

Note

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

About White Tree Publishing

More Books from White Tree Publishing

Christian non-fiction

Christian Fiction

Younger Readers

###  Introduction

There were many prolific Christian writers in the last part of the nineteenth century and the early twentieth. The majority of these books were fairly heavy-handed moral tales and warnings to young people, rather than romances. Two writers spring to mind who wrote romantic fiction for adults -- Mrs. O. F. Walton and Margaret S. Haycraft, whose works are still popular today. Our White Tree Publishing editions from these authors have been sensitively abridged and edited to make them much more acceptable to today's general readers, rather than publishing them unedited for students of Victorian prose. The characters and storyline are always left intact.

Eliza Kerr is less well known than Mrs. Walton and Margaret Haycraft, but she wrote similar books, but with perhaps less emphasis on romance, but in a similar style to the books of Walton and Haycraft, and we welcome Eliza Kerr to our catalogue. We will be publishing more books from this author in 2018. The titles and release dates will be announced on our website.

Victorian and early twentieth century books by Christian and secular writers can be over-sentimental, referring throughout, for example, to a mother as the dear, sweet mother, and a child as the darling little child. In our abridged editions overindulgent descriptions of people have been shortened to make a more robust story, but the characters and storylines are always unchanged.

A problem of Victorian writers is the tendency to insert intrusive comments concerning what is going to happen later in the story. Today we call them spoilers. They are usually along the lines of: "Little did he/she know that...." I have removed these when appropriate.

£200 in the late 1800s may not sound much, but in income value it is worth about £24,000 pounds today (about US $30,000). I mention this in case the mention of money in this book sounds insignificant!

Chris Wright

Editor

NOTE

There are 15 chapters in this book. In the second half are advertisements for our other books, so the story may end earlier than expected! The last chapter is marked as such. We aim to make our eBooks free or for a nominal cost, and cannot invest in other forms of advertising. However, word of mouth by satisfied readers will also help get our books more widely known. When the story ends, please take a look at what we publish: Christian non-fiction, Christian fiction, and books for younger readers, and go to our website www.whitetreepublishing.com.

Chapter 1

One Night

The Past

It was a wild, cold night. The wind caught up the dry dead leaves and whirled them round the walls of the house, and along the deserted garden walks. Within the pleasant, comfortable, old-fashioned Manor House the lights had been extinguished by the sleepy servants an hour ago, all save the tall wax candles on the dining room table. Standing near that blazing fire was a woman, small, thin, and wrinkled-faced. Her sharp, loud voice was giving utterance to vindictive, scornful words, as her wrathful glance fell upon a young girl sitting with bowed head on the other side of the hearth.

As the torrent of angry words flowed faster and faster, so the girl's head drooped lower and lower, until the hard eyes watching her could no longer witness the effect produced by those harsh, cruel speeches.

By-and-by the girl rose up and left the room, never looking back once, nor halting when she was bidden to return. She ascended the wide, thickly carpeted steps that led to the sleeping rooms above, and entered one of them, where a child three years old slumbered peacefully in a small white cot. She stooped down and kissed the little one softly, hesitated a moment, then raised her up and dressed her in warm garments. Then she gathered up various articles of clothing and crushed them into a bag.

Finally, she wrapped herself in a long fur cloak and taking the child on one arm and the bag on the other, slowly descended the stairs. She met no one on the way, for the servants were all sleeping soundly, according to the manner of those who engage in physical labour, and the woman whose sharp, loud voice had filled the dining room an hour previously, heard no footstep through the silent house: had no presentiment of coming ill as she sat by the dying fire.

The rain was beginning to fall now, slowly and steadily. The woman in the dining room of the Manor House drew back the curtains for one moment, and looked out on the dreary dark night, and shivered as she looked; while the tall fir trees swayed their branches like arms waving valedictory salutations.

Three miles away upon the dark road, the slight figure with the child sat down by the wayside to rest. She was not weeping, neither was she weary; but over her aspect there was a something desolate which might have spoken to the heart of a passer-by, had human eyes been there to see her young forlornness. But no sound of step broke the stillness of the night. The road unrolled itself dimly before her view, empty of all things except the narrow shadow of the hedge, which stretched out gloomily -- a long strip of darkness through which her way ran.

### Chapter 2

Miss Macnab

The Present

IN the main street of Market Hawley, in a little two-storied house, dwelt Miss Macnab, a moderately well-to-do spinster past middle age. She called herself an "old maid," and she had a beautiful black Persian cat and a large black Newfoundland dog as companions. She was such a cheerful, active, good-hearted little woman, that many of the townsfolk loved her well, although she could scold vigorously and say severe, cutting things whenever she detected meanness, or dishonesty, or backbiting among her neighbours.

She had built the house in which she dwelt. It was two stories lower than any other in the street, and was as unlike those pretentious mansions as the saucy little daisy is unlike the proud, conceited hollyhock. The great man of the town, Absalom Marsh, "soap and candle-maker to the Queen," declared it spoiled the symmetry of the main street, for all the houses were four stories high except this one, and as he lived in the main street he wished Miss Macnab to "improve her abode" by adding the necessary two stories. She declined to do so, giving as a reason for her refusal that she saw no particular beauty in a row of houses like peas in a pod. So the pretty, assertive, snug little house remained two stories high only, and it was said in Market Hawley that house and mistress were much alike in many respects.

On a certain cold November evening, Miss Macnab sat in her comfortable parlour awaiting a visitor. On the table a bounteous meal was spread, and in the grate a bright fire was burning, which was duly appreciated by Lion, the Newfoundland dog, and by Tiger, the dignified Persian cat. Presently the parlour door was opened and the maid announced Miss Mowbray, the expected visitor. Miss Macnab jumped up with alacrity and held out her hand with a welcoming smile to the tall young woman who entered.

"I am very glad to see you, Miss Marjorie, my dear," she said, in her rapid, energetic fashion. "I have been waiting for you, and so have Lion and Tiger." She introduced her pets with a wave of her hand.

"I am sorry I have delayed your tea," answered the newcomer, in a low, soft voice, as she smilingly glanced at Lion who had risen to his feet to inspect her more carefully.

"Oh well, you haven't injured us very seriously. That will do, Lion. You need not be too curious, for this young lady and I are going to be friends, so you will have many opportunities of seeing her."

Lion walked back to his seat by the fire, and his mistress drew Marjorie Mowbray to the table.

"I am glad you intend to be my friend, Miss Macnab. I did not expect to meet with such a luxury in Market Hawley."

"And why not, my dear? You are not of a melancholy disposition, I trust. Ah, I see you are tired. Mrs. Newton's noisy youngsters were too much for you this afternoon."

"Perhaps I am somewhat tired, but I ought to be accustomed to teaching now. I have done it for so many years. I don't think I am naturally inclined to melancholy," she added with a smile, "but I believe a true friend to be a luxury."

"Well, a true friend is a nice thing to have, and it is not always to be got. So in that sense it is a luxury. Not that I am a nice thing to have by any means. I am sharp and prickly, and very strong in my dislikes. And I am also ... an old maid. There, are you disgusted and repelled? You see the cat and the dog, the typical old maid's companions, and you see me, the aforesaid old maid. Are you inclined to have us all three for your friends? I liked you when I saw you in Chapel on Sunday, and I knew you had no acquaintances in the town; for Mrs. Newton told me you had come here in answer to her and Mrs. West's advertisement for a visiting governess."

"I shall be heartily glad to have you for my friends," was the earnest, sincere reply.

Marjorie Mowbray was fair to look upon in a serene, graceful way, and her dark hair and dark eyes were beautiful; but notwithstanding the bright smile that came and went, her face was sometimes a very sad one. Miss Macnab looked at her keenly once or twice, and then she asked abruptly, "Are you all alone in the world, my dear?"

"I have one sister, Nettie, much younger than myself. We two are alone in the world. Nettie is studying in London to be a painter. She has great talent, and her masters tell her that she will one day be famous; but in the meantime she must work hard. She is only seventeen. I have been mother and father to her since her babyhood, so the more money I can earn, the happier we both are."

"Then she does not teach?"

"Oh no, she requires all her time for her work. She lodges in South Kensington, London, and attends classes there. When I saw the advertisement in The Standard for a visiting governess for two families in this country town, I determined I would try and obtain it. The salary offered was so much more than I was receiving in London, and I thought I could live more cheaply in a country town. That is why I left London, and why I am alone. Of course Nettie will come and see me during her vacations."

"I understand," said Miss Macnab, nodding her head quickly, "but I can't quite understand why Miss Nettie should not earn something also. She is not a child."

"No, she is not a child, but it is my duty to support her. I owe it to her, and she shall never work for her living until she has painted her great picture. Then she will be so rich that she can support us both, I suppose."

The elder woman did not pursue the subject further, for she saw that it disquieted her visitor.

"Well then, the best thing I can do for you at present, in my capacity of friend, is to obtain more teaching for you in the town. I daresay my friendly enemy, Absalom Marsh, could assist me."

"Thank you," said Marjorie, with a quick, grateful smile. "I think I shall do very well if I have no more than my two tuitions. May I ask who Absalom Marsh is?"

"Certainly. Mr. Absalom Marsh is 'soap and candle-maker to the Queen,' editor of a paper called Cleanliness, and the greatest and most religious man in the town. What are you smiling at, my dear? I assure you I state facts. He certainly is the richest man in Market Hawley, and he says he is the most religious -- after our minister."

"What a strange thing for a man to assert," said Marjorie, in some wonder and amusement.

"I can, perhaps, tell you why he considers himself such a religious man. He edits a paper all about soap, that great cleanser of dirt. He thinks about soap continually and tries to improve the quality of that which he makes and sells. He affirms that it is stated in the Bible that cleanliness is next to godliness. Therefore, as he is the great exponent of Cleanliness, and Mr. Welsh, the minister, the great exponent of godliness, he is the most religious man in the town -- after the minister."

"But I don't believe that statement is anywhere in the Bible."

"No, my dear, and many others are sure it is not there; but that doesn't trouble Mr. Absalom Marsh in the least. He says it must have been there, but modern translators took it out. To do him justice, he is a kind-hearted man and a good one too; but he is somewhat strange, and he is dogmatic. He has a nice wife, and a conceited, ignorant daughter. Ah, that latter sounds uncharitable, doesn't it? Why, here comes the great man himself. I know his knock well. It is great and important, like himself."

"Mr. Marsh, ma'am," announced the maid,

Chapter 3

Soap

GOOD evening, Miss Macnab. I would not intrude upon this domestic scene, so to speak, but I was told by your next-door neighbour that her lodger, Miss Mowbray, was taking tea with you. And as I wanted particularly to see that young lady I thought I would call on you, even at such an unseasonable time."

"Pray, don't apologise, Mr. Marsh. Allow me to introduce you to Miss Mowbray."

After the introduction had been duly performed, Mr. Absalom Marsh seated himself on a chair close to Marjorie, and looked at her gravely. "I am a business man, Miss Mowbray, so to speak; and I always come to the point at once. No beating about the bush for me. I offend people sometimes by my abrupt speech, and by my articles in Cleanliness; but I survive all that. In fact, I may say I am above the wagging of petty tongues. You haven't seen my paper called Cleanliness?"

Marjorie Mowbray shook her head.

"No, of course not. You are only a newcomer yet. But you will see it, and hear of it too. I am soap-maker to the Queen, and I never forget the important part soap plays in this world of ours. Indeed, it is the chief object of my life to impress other people with the importance of soap. But for it where would we be today? Look at the difference between the French and English nations. There you have an illustration -- a sad one too -- of that which I endeavour to teach weekly in the pages of Cleanliness. The French people are shifting, unstable in politics, undignified in their Houses of Parliament. Why, in this enlightened nineteenth century they would think nothing of having a free fight in their debating chambers when differences of opinion arise.

"France scarcely recognizes soap as an article of merchandise. If English people go to Paris hotels, they take their soap with them, which in itself is a significant fact. Now, if a man has used his bath and his soap freely in the morning, he has a sense of well-being. He need not shrink from his neighbour's eyes, for is he not clean, and shining, and goodly to behold? Thus he grows dignified and calm, and will not think of knocking down his political opponent. Then, again, if the people use soap freely on their persons and on their dwellings, they cannot fear an epidemic, for Cleanliness is a foe to all diseases of that nature."

"But, Mr. Marsh," interrupted Miss Macnab, "though the French people may be undignified, surely they are brave?"

"Words, mere words," said the manufacturer, contemptuously. "One good Englishman could beat three Frenchmen, for all their bombast. And why, again I ask, is there such a difference between the nations? Englishmen recognize soap. Englishwomen use soap for all household purposes. Yes, even the silver, and the brass candlestick that holds the taper which illumines our path to our downy couches, are brightened up by the aid of that soap which is found to exceed in excellence any plate powder ever invented. Ah, my dear Miss Mowbray, Cleanliness is next to godliness. Godliness comes first, of course, and then, next to it, is Cleanliness. Let a man be godly first of all, and then clean, and he need fear no foe."

"You said you had a special object in visiting me this evening," said Miss Macnab quickly, when Mr. Absalom Marsh paused for a moment in his speech to take a copy of Cleanliness from his pocket.

"Yes, yes, I am coming to that. I always go directly to the point, as you know. Now, here is a number of Cleanliness, Miss Mowbray. You will see by it more clearly what I am trying to do for Market Hawley, and what I have done for it. At the other end of the town I built a schoolhouse eight years ago, for the education of the children of my workers, and for any children of the townsfolk who might wish to attend. I charge a nominal fee quarterly. I had a very good teacher until a month ago, when I sent her away. Mark me, she was not incompetent. We had no misunderstanding, and I found her another situation where the salary was even better than she received from me. Then, why did I dismiss her, you naturally ask?"

He paused, and noticing some interest in his listeners, he continued. "It was because I am determined that my school shall have a teacher who is a graduate of London University. I visited London recently, and I was gratified by all I saw and heard there. I resolved that Market Hawley should not be behindhand in cultivation. I resolved that the young generation should have an opportunity of making their mark in the world. I said that Euclid, and Algebra, and Political Economy, and such deep subjects should be made familiar to them in their youth. They had only been taught reading, writing, arithmetic, history, and geography. But now we must plunge into the depths, so to speak, and bring up those deeper subjects with which a London University woman would be acquainted.

"You have come from London, Miss Mowbray. You have been for years teaching in London. Of course you are a London University graduate, theref

ore you are the very person I am seeking. Will you accept the post? I am in a hurry to reopen the school, for there has been a month's unavoidable holiday. I will give you a large salary and as the hours are from nine to one you will be able to make some arrangement with Mrs. Newton and Mrs. West so as to retain their work also. Indeed, I have already spoken to them on the subject, and they are anxious to oblige me, and to keep you also."

Marjorie shook her head. She had never said she was a graduate of London University. She had taught for many years in London, and had very good letters of recommendation in which there was mention made of excellent French and German, of wonderful proficiency in music, vocal and instrumental, but not one word of a London University degree. Mr. Absalom Marsh had taken it for granted that she had a degree because she taught in London. It was his fixed opinion that all young women graduated in London, so he spoke of her to Mrs. Newton as a graduate. and that good mother had little idea of the meaning of the term, for she was even more ignorant concerning the subject than the soap manufacturer himself. She did not contradict him; she thought Marjorie must have made known her attainments to him, so decidedly did he speak.

And thus it happened that the townsfolk had decided that Miss Mowbray was a graduate of London University, before Marjorie heard a word of the matter. Naturally, she was rather startled and amazed at Mr. Absalom Marsh's offer.

"Now then, Miss Mowbray, what do you say? If the salary is not large enough, I will increase, aye, double it even, in order to obtain your services. I know one must pay a high price for a good article; eh, Miss Macnab?"

"Yes, indeed," returned that little woman, wondering much at Marjorie's hesitation. Why, this was the very thing for her. Here would be an increase to her salary which would make her almost rich. She might retain one private tuition and the school, and then she would not be overworked, and yet have a large income. Had she forgotten her sister, that she hesitated so?

"May I give my decisive answer tomorrow, instead of tonight?" asked Marjorie, clasping her hands tightly together, a look of uncertainty and pain on her face.

"Yes, of course, Miss Mowbray. I am sure you will make no unnecessary delay, for the children have had already too long a holiday. Now I will say goodnight. Mark me, I do not take offence at your asking time for deliberation. It is businesslike, and a manner I have myself."

Then Mr. Absalom Marsh took his departure, well pleased, on the whole, with his visit.

"Now then, let us make ourselves comfortable, Marjorie, my dear. I may call you Marjorie, may I not? I am old enough to be your mother."

"Indeed, I shall be less lonely if you will omit the 'Miss.' But I am not a young girl. When a woman reaches thirty she is no longer a girl."

"Perhaps you are not a girl, but you are young compared with me. Tiger, I think you might let Lion have more of the fire. You have been sitting there all the evening while he has given way to me."

The cat rose up, and walked quietly over to Marjorie, and sat down close beside her, looking up at her in a lazy, sleepy fashion.

"Ah, Tiger has extended his friendship to you, I perceive," said Miss Macnab, as she watched the movements of her pet. "You may find him useful sometime. He is so intelligent. I have sent him many a message, and he always does his work properly. All the ordinary cats and dogs of the neighbourhood are afraid of him, and there is not another Persian in the town. He is very fierce when he is roused, and he is inclined to be quarrelsome. I suppose he takes after his mistress in the latter failing."

There was silence for a while -- Miss Macnab busy with her knitting needles, and Marjorie thinking how happy was the life of this old woman.

"On what are you meditating so deeply, my dear Marjorie?"

"I believe I was almost envying you your happiness."

"What? Do you forget that I am a solitary old maid?"

"You certainly are not solitary, and I never did think that marriage ought to be the chief aim of a woman's life. What married woman could be happier than you?"

"Well, well, that's as it may be. Of course, I am happy and contented, but I don't specially recommend a state of single blessedness to women. Well, now you have some idea of our little town after Mr. Absalom Marsh's visit. It is a lively place with one thing and another, and it has its mystery also, like all well-regulated country towns. About a mile and a half distant, in the country, is a house called Manor House. It is surrounded by grounds and gardens, and with a large farm belonging to it. The owner of it and of the farm was a certain John Ashton, who had a wife and daughter. The wife died leaving a baby a week old, and John Ashton married his housekeeper six months afterwards. He died six months after his second marriage, leaving two children to the care of the stepmother. The eldest was a girl about fifteen or sixteen, the younger almost a baby still. Then trouble arose between the stepmother and the girl. I don't believe anyone knows the right story, but it seems to have been a sort of mutual jealousy, for John Ashton left everything to his second wife. Well, I have always taken the girl's part, although it all happened before I settled in Market Hawley, and I knew neither the woman nor the girl."

Miss Macnab paused for a moment in thought. "It must have been hard to see her own mother's servant occupying her mother's place, and ruling all the household. At any rate, however it was, the girl and the child disappeared one night from the Manor House, and were never seen afterwards. Mrs. Ashton seems to have been filled with remorse or fear then, for she has been seeking her stepchildren ever since that night. She does not live in the Manor House, but she returns to it at rare intervals. An old woman and her husband mind the house, and the farm is let now to a nice young fellow who comes to visit me sometimes. They say the stepmother is an old woman, very wrinkled, and very white-haired. Mr. Absalom Marsh has seen her, but she never remains longer than a day or two in the Manor House. Is it not a strange story? Imagine that old woman wandering up and down the earth in search of the children she had wronged in some way! Very likely they are both dead, and she will never find them. Surely her untiring energy, backed by her money, would have been successful long ago, if they were alive."

"It is, indeed, a strange story," said Marjorie, as she rose to go to her home. "And it all happened years ago, you say?"

"Yes, more than fifteen years ago."

"That is a long time, a very long time. The stepmother has surely suffered greatly for her wrongdoing, whatever it was, if it be true she is searching for the children."

"Yes, she is still suffering for it. Well, goodnight, Marjorie dear. Sleep soundly, and make up your mind to accept Mr. Absalom Marsh's offer."

### Chapter 4

Marjorie's Temptation

WHEN Marjorie reached her lodgings she went directly to her bedroom, and locking the door sat down to think. In all the emergencies of her life, she had always made her own decision. She had never had anyone to appeal to since the birth of her only sister, so many years her junior. It was no new thing for her to meditate thus deeply about that which concerned the welfare of her sister. But tonight she seemed to be unable to come to any decision.

Here was a most advantageous offer. She had not received such a one in all her hardworking life. It meant comfort, good masters, and perhaps even the realization of her dreams for her sister. And it meant light labour and comfort for herself. Why, then, did she hesitate? Evidently Miss Macnab, her new friend, was astonished at such hesitation, and no wonder.

How delighted Nettie would be when she heard of their increased income! She needed to count her shillings so carefully, yes, and her pennies also, and now there would be no necessity for such extreme care. And Nettie could come and spend her holidays in Market Hawley, and get some pretty sketches from the surrounding countryside. Perhaps the Manor House itself might tempt her pencil: it was quaint enough. Yes, and they might even take a trip to the seaside during the very hot weather.

"If any man serve Me, let him follow Me." Whose voice was that? There was no one in the room but herself. Why should those words sound so distinctly through the quiet chamber? What had they to do with the subject? Nothing at all, of course. She was a follower of Christ, certainly -- at least she had been trying to follow Him for more than ten years past; but that had nothing to do with the acceptance or refusal of Mr. Absalom Marsh's offer. How could it have anything to do with it?

Yes, she would accept the post of teacher for this school. She would give up her commitment with Mrs. West, perhaps, and retain Mrs. Newton's children. Then she would not be so hard-worked, and she would have time to read a little more, and improve herself, for it was so easy to forget, even when one has been well educated. Of course she would not refuse to teach Mrs. West's children if their mother considered the refusal a breach of contract. The business must be settled amicably, if possible.

"And there shall in no wise enter into it anything that defileth .... or maketh a lie."

Again that voice, sounding clearly, urgently, through the night stillness. What was the meaning of it? Was some person really speaking, or did she imagine it? Was she so familiar with the words of the Bible that now in the lonely night season they came to her unbidden, even as unexpected guests? Well, what if they did come? Words could not harm her, and ought not to frighten or trouble her.

"If ye love Me, keep My commandments."

"Blessed are they that do His commandments, that they may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the city."

Ah, she would go to bed. There was no use trying to come to any decision when she was so constantly interrupted by inappropriate words from the Bible. Tomorrow morning no doubt her brain would be clearer, and she would be able to say a definite Yes or No.

"So you have decided to take the school," said Miss Macnab next morning, when she met Marjorie in the main street. "I am so glad, my dear, for it will give you and your sister pleasure and comfort, and will cause Mr. Absalom Marsh undoubted satisfaction. With all his peculiarities, he is a good man, and a useful man in the town. He will go in sometimes and check your work, no doubt, and you must try not to laugh at him, for he knows nothing whatsoever about the 'deeper subjects,' as he calls them."

"What are his wife and daughter like? Are they also ignorant of the 'deeper subjects,' as Mr. Marsh calls them?"

"Indeed, they are. You will not dislike Mrs. Marsh, I think, but I am afraid you will not find the Marsh's daughter Louisa a congenial companion. Indeed, my dear, I don't know where you are going to find a companion sufficiently accomplished and enlightened as yourself."

"Now, Miss Macnab, you are laughing at me."

"No, indeed I am not. You must know we think a great deal in this town of anyone who is a graduate of London University, and who can sing and play so well as I hear you can. Why, you are all the virtues and talents bound up together. We have very few nice girls in the town."

"I should not care for a girl companion. You forget I have Nettie, and I have you. You promised to be my friend, and what more do I want?"

"Well, well, we shall see. I met Mrs. Marsh just now, and she said she and Louisa would call on you this afternoon, and our minister also intends calling."

"Oh dear," uttered Marjorie, in some dismay; "I thought I was going to live very quietly."

"So you can. They will not expect you to entertain them, although they may think it their duty to entertain you. You will like and respect our minister. This is his first year, but we all praise him. Positively there is not a dissentient voice, not even Miss Louisa's."

"Does Miss Louisa Marsh indulge in dissent, then?"

"She believes it due to her literary and intellectual exaltation, as the daughter of an editor of a paper, to criticize people and things in a harsh, dissatisfied spirit. A mind such as hers should not be easily contented with that which pleases ordinary mortals. Now then, Maria Macnab, she said to herself, "I am ashamed of you. Finding fault with another, when you are so full of faults yourself. You must not heed all I say, my dear. Leave out the unkind, sharp speeches. My tongue runs away with me at times. Now, do you find your lodgings comfortable?"

"Yes, thank you. I have the first floor sitting room and bedroom. They are well furnished, and my landlady is kind to me."

"That's right. I am delighted you are next door to me. You can run in to tea constantly, and so relieve the monotony of my evenings. There, goodbye for the present. I have kept you standing here for a long while."

Marjorie looked at the little woman with loving, admiring eyes, and thought, "How good she is. How thoroughly and sincerely good she is!"

On that afternoon, the wife and daughter of Mr. Absalom Marsh visited Miss Mowbray.

"Absalom told me you had consented to teach his school, and he thinks very highly of you. I am sure we are pleased to welcome you amongst us. Are we not, Louisa?"

Miss Louisa Marsh smiled noncommittally.

Mrs. Marsh continued, "I suppose you already know Miss Macnab well; she is your next door neighbour. We have not a very lively town, Miss Mowbray, and we are chiefly busy business people, so it will seem a good bit different from London. Absalom says London is splendid,"

"London is nice enough at times, but its noise and heat and closeness grow oppressive when you live in it during the summer months."

"Just hear that, Louisa. Why, Pa thought it altogether splendid."

"Of course Miss Mowbray will find Market Hawley dull after London, but we are not so far behind after all," said Miss Louisa quickly. She did not wish this new teacher to have a low opinion of the people amongst whom she had elected to dwell. In fact, Miss Louisa would have liked to have impressed Miss Mowbray with a sense of the importance of the Marsh family, but she did not quite know how to do that.

"Well, Miss Mowbray will have an opportunity of judging some of our people, if she joins us after our meeting on Wednesday night. We have a prayer meeting in the Chapel every Wednesday night, and our minister likes us to attend pretty regular. Louisa always goes, and I go as often as I can. We'll have a few of the neighbours in on Wednesday night to supper, and we'll be glad to see you."

Marjorie thanked Mrs. Marsh, and accepted the invitation.

"Louisa goes in sometimes to inspect the school, so you mustn't be surprised to see her and the minister every other day or so."

"Oh, Ma, not quite so often as that. You'll be frightening Miss Mowbray. I go in occasionally and teach them a song or two, and Mr. Welsh lectures them."

Marjorie wondered how the last teacher endured that sort of inspection, and she there and then resolved that she would have none of it -- but she made no comment upon Miss Marsh's unexpected and unpleasing announcement.

"The intellect of youth," continued Miss Louisa Marsh, "requires careful handling. We must not give them strong meat all the time, and no sweets. You will supply the strong meat, Miss Mowbray, and I will supply the sweets in the shape of singing, and perhaps story telling. Papa says you are a graduate of London University. He is quite enthusiastic on the University subject, and sent away a good teacher and a friend of mine because she hadn't a degree. Now, I don't quite go with him, though I approve of a sound education in a measure. However, I hope you will come up to his expectations in every way. Pa has such hope. I tell him it is at best a disappointing world."

"Why, Louisa, my lovey, you have no reason to say it is a disappointing world. You have everything to make a girl happy: good looks, plenty of money, and plenty of friends." Her mother spoke in perfect good faith. She clearly thought her daughter beautiful. Louisa had pale straw-coloured hair, pale blue eyes, a thin face, and an angular form. She was about six years younger than Marjorie, though she scarcely looked so young. She resembled her father in many respects, but she lacked his good nature and his forgiving disposition.

"Well, Ma, I don't mean to say I have any active sorrows, but to speculative minds, this earth is composed of shadow and sunshine."

"As you speak of sunshine, I do believe it is shining again after that shower, so we had better be going homeward."

When her visitors had departed, Marjorie sat down and laughed softly. "Miss Louisa Marsh reads very light literature, I expect. She talks as the lackadaisical heroines in the 'penny terribles' do. But I believe she could be very unkind if she chose."

### Chapter 5

A Social Gathering

FOR the first few weeks, Marjorie succeeded very well with the school. Miss Louisa Marsh was on a visit with friends in a town a little distance from Market Hawley, and Mr. Absalom Marsh was particularly busy over some articles on Joseph Addison, born in 1672, the writer of the memorable quote, "Cleanliness may be defined to be the emblem of purity of mind," which he was bringing out in Cleanliness; so she had none of the anticipated unpleasant interruption to her work. She found that the pupils really knew nothing beyond the very rudiments of history, geography, and arithmetic. Evidently there had been an abundant supply of the "sweets" during the last teacher's rule, and very little of the "strong meat." The children on the whole were willing to learn, and inclined to be obedient.

The new teacher had such a reputation for "deep" learning that they were somewhat in awe of her. Her energetic fashion of instructing them, and attending to nothing else but work during school hours, bewildered them, and astonished them into obedience and industry.

Marjorie concluded she had done right in accepting the post. She could really improve the school very much; but it would be many a long day before they would be fit to receive even elementary instruction in any of those "deeper subjects" upon which Mr. Absalom Marsh laid such stress. It would take a year's hard study, and much mutual patience, before the children could be said to have a "fair knowledge" of history, geography, grammar, and spelling.

Where would be the use of teaching them algebra when they could not work a simple sum in addition correctly? Or what would be the use of lecturing them on Political Economy, when their knowledge of history was so limited, and when they possessed no knowledge at all of literature? These two latter subjects would be of more service to them than Political Economy. Perhaps when a year had passed they would be fit for the "deeper subjects." Well, a year was a long time, and much private study as well as public teaching might be accomplished in that interval.

One day two months after Marjorie had begun her school duties, a pressing invitation to tea arrived from Mrs. Marsh. There was to be a small "social gathering" that evening at the house of Mr. Absalom Marsh. Would Miss Mowbray make one of the number?

Marjorie accepted, wondering if she would meet any new faces, and anticipating criticism on her manner of teaching the school. She knew she would have to explain why the "deeper subjects" were as yet absent from the school course, but she was prepared for that, and rather wished to have the explanation over.

She called in to see her friend on her way to the house of Mr. Absalom Marsh, but she found Miss Macnab laid up with a severe cold, and quite unable to leave her armchair by the blazing fire. How comfortable she looked there, free apparently from all anxiety and annoyance, even though she was suffering from a cold. How happy her face looked, and how her eyes shone with amusement as she related Lion's last exploit, that wise and dignified dog seeming meanwhile serenely conscious of the fact that he formed the subject of conversation.

"How I wish I could stay with you instead of going to meet a number of strangers. I think you are a most enviable mortal," said Marjorie, as she reluctantly made a movement to depart.

Miss Macnab laughed heartily, to the extreme discomfort of Tiger who was sleeping peacefully with his head on his mistress' footstool. "Go away, child, and don't be so foolish. I wonder how many times you have envied me since your arrival in Market Hawley. I am really surprised at a young person of such superior abilities and attractions envying a little eccentric old maid. That is what my friends generally call me. Well, if you live unmarried until you are as old as I am, and get a dog, a cat, and a tiny house, you will be just like me. So never despair, there's a glorious future for you! Go, my dear, or Mr. Absalom Marsh will be kept waiting for his tea. Come in tomorrow evening, and tell me how you liked the 'social gathering.'"

As Marjorie prepared to leave, Miss Macnab called her back. "You'd better let Lion escort you to your destination, for there are a number of ugly people about the streets and roads since the failure of that factory seven miles away. No, I know you have not far to go, but Lion may as well get accustomed to looking after you. He is my escort always when I go out. The exercise does him good, and he has a decided dislike to objectionable characters. He saved my life twice when I lived in the colliery district."

"I wonder he was never poisoned," said Marjorie.

"They tried it once, but I have trained him to eat nothing outside the house. He never touches anything he sees along the roads, and he will not take even a bun from a friend's hand except I say he may do so. There would be no use in trying to poison him, for he would not eat the stuff. Now, Lion, see Miss Marjorie safely to the door of Mr. Marsh's house, and come back again."

"Ah, Lion," said Marjorie, as she walked along the dark street, her hand on the dog's neck, "I could never be like your mistress. She is far more than an just old maid, with a cat, a dog, and a house."

Lion looked gravely into her face, and waved his tail slowly from side to side. He had conceived a great affection for this new friend of his mistress, and Marjorie returned it.

When that particularly pretentious house in the main street was reached where the Marsh family dwelt, Lion waited until the door was opened and then trotted away, after receiving a parting caress from Marjorie.

Mrs. Marsh welcomed Marjorie with cordiality, and Louisa, gave her a languid hand.

"We were just speaking of you before you came in," said Miss Marsh, regarding with condemnatory eyes the red velveteen dress adorned with a bunch of ivy leaves which Marjorie wore. "Mr. Welsh tells me that he has not often visited the school in my absence, so I suppose the children, having had nothing but Algebra and Political Economy, have grown very learned and, I am afraid, very dull. Poor things! We must try to enliven them a little."

"I think they must have suffered much from the idle time they had after the departure of their last teacher, for they were ignorant of the merest elementary education," returned Marjorie quietly, as she held out her hand in greeting to Mr. Welsh, the minister, who came and stood opposite to her on the hearthrug. "They don't need any recreation for a long time to come. They have had more than enough of it, if I may judge by their present attainments."

She spoke in a determined, resolute manner, although inwardly she was far from feeling resolute. She desired to make Miss Louisa Marsh understand that she would have no interference with her work as teacher, and she did not particularly care to answer many questions on the subject. She hoped to be able to say all she wanted concerning it, and then to allude to it no more while she remained in Market Hawley. Otherwise how could she know any rest or peace, she thought, with unwonted tears in her eyes? Tears of self-pity and of a penitence would now be too late.

"Then you think their last teacher was ignorant?" queried Louisa calmly.

"Oh no, I don't think any such thing," answered Marjorie quickly, as she noted that other of the guests were taking an interest in the conversation, and drawing nearer to listen.

"But they have evidently been idle; that I do know. How else should I have found them so ignorant?"

"I believe Miss Mowbray is right," said the young minister. "We wasted too much of the school's time last year, but I will lay all the blame on Miss Marsh. She led, and I followed. So please absolve me, Miss Mowbray."

Marjorie smiled. "I don't blame anyone. Why should I? But I like to do whatever I do with all my might. These children must be taught in earnest, and to that end I must have them to myself without outward interference or interruptions."

"Quite right, Miss Mowbray; quite right. So you shall have undisputed authority in my school. Who would not bow down to superior intellectual merit? I, even I, bow to it, and try to hold it up to admiration. Now, these weeks past I have been holding up Joseph Addison in the pages of Cleanliness. Great man, Addison. Of course you know who I mean, Miss Mowbray. He didn't live exactly in my time or yours, but we can become acquainted with him through his writings. I can recommend him to your notice also, Mr. Welsh, for he was a godly man. He wrote hymns full of piety. He had a contented, cheerful mind. He says in a number of the Spectator -- he was an editor, as well as myself -- that 'cheerfulness keeps up a kind of daylight in the mind, and fills it with a steady and perpetual serenity.' No doubt that man was well aware of the value of Cleanliness, for nothing is so conducive to serenity as a clean heart in a clean body. There you are -- Cleanliness next to godliness."

"You were going to introduce me to Miss Mowbray," said a man's voice from behind the broad back of the soap-maker at this juncture.

"Ah yes, to be sure. But I had not forgotten. I always go straight to the point. No beating about the bush for me. Why ... you know her already, John Weston."

"Yes, I met Mr. Weston in London," said Marjorie quietly. "But I did not think that Miss Macnab's friend was also an acquaintance of my own."

"Well, now, that's very pleasant," continued Mr. Absalom Marsh. "Perhaps you will be able to persuade him to attend our chapel here when the evenings grow longer. He used to come, but latterly he deserted us and went to a church near his place out at the Manor House."

"Mr. Weston has already promised to come back to us, Pa," said Louisa sharply.

"Oh, I am glad to hear that. I suppose our minister persuaded you. I knew you would like him when you had heard him preach." Then the editor of Cleanliness walked away to another part of the room, quite unconscious of the fact that the minister might not desire such open commendation.

Louisa and Mr. Welsh entered into an earnest conversation regarding some hymns for the next Sunday's services, while John Weston, the rich farmer and friend of Miss Macnab stood silently, looking at Miss Mowbray. He was a tall, fair man, three or four years Marjorie's senior, with honest, truthful eyes, and a kindly smile.

"You don't ask after Nettie," said Marjorie, growing slightly embarrassed under his steady gaze; "and you don't ask how I got here."

"I know the latter," he answered quietly. "Miss Marsh told me. But, as you claimed me as an acquaintance only, I thought you might resent any personal questions from me."

"You are mistaken," she returned, in a tone equally low. "You may be my friend if you wish. Nettie is very well and studying very hard at present. She will come to me in the summer for a couple of months."

"You will not be so lonely without her if you have the companionship of Miss Macnab. I think you said you knew her?"

"Yes, she is my next-door neighbour, and I am very fond of her. I go often to see her in the evenings."

"Ah, she is also my friend. Many a laugh she has given me, and many a scolding too."

They were standing near the fire as they talked, and Marjorie seemed all at once to feel the room grow very hot. A confused sensation of astonishment and of pleasure made her head giddy. She had actually succeeded in making Miss Marsh understand that visitors were not welcome in the school, and she had spoken to John Weston, a man she had never expected to see again after that day in London when she had refused to marry him. It was chiefly for Nettie's sake she had refused him, as it was for her sake that she was now teaching Mr. Marsh's school. Suddenly the voice of Mr. Absalom Marsh sounded loudly in her ears:

"John Weston, is it true that the Wanderer, as Miss Macnab calls the mysterious mistress of the Manor House, has returned to her abode? They say you have seen her."

"Look, Pa! You have so shattered Miss Mowbray's nerves that she is going to faint."

### Chapter 6

The Mystery Ashton Manor House

"REALLY, I am very sorry. I had no idea you were nervous, or I wouldn't have spoken so abruptly," said her host in real distress when he saw Marjorie's pale face and tottering form.

"It is nothing; I am better now. I think the fire was too hot for me. I should apologize for being so foolish," and Marjorie sat down in the nearest chair and drew a long breath as of one in pain.

"You haven't been looking so well since you began the teaching in earnest, my dear Miss Mowbray," said kind-hearted, fussy Mrs. Marsh, as she came forward with a glass of water in her hand, which her exhausted guest drank quickly. "You work too hard. That is my opinion."

"Dear me, what a bother about nothing," whispered Miss Louisa Marsh to the minister. "She needn't work so hard if she doesn't like to do it. I'd go in for an hour or so three or four times a week, but she almost refused to allow me. A nice thing, if I may not take part in my own father's pet scheme. I declare I've a good mind to say more on the subject to her. Now's the time, when Pa and Ma's there."

Before the minister could remonstrate, Miss Louisa had joined the circle round Marjorie's chair. "I hope you are better, Miss Mowbray," she said in an apparently kindly tone. "You will perhaps now re-consider your objection to our visiting the school. When you are not over-strong, I should say that freedom from work for an hour or so occasionally during school time would be most desirable."

"I am usually very strong, thank you, and quite able to perform my duties. This was only a slight faintness from the heat."

"Well, I must say I think you are very foolish in imagining yourself made of iron. But perhaps you, like most teachers, refuse to follow in the footsteps of your predecessor, simply because they are her footsteps. Because your predecessor liked my assistance in her work, you will not accept it."

John Weston cast a very indignant glance at the speaker, and Mr. Absalom Marsh said in a very pompous tone, "Now, Louisa, I can have none of that sort of talk. Miss Mowbray is a London University woman, and above such petty nonsense. You should apologize for your remark."

"I'm sure I do, Pa dear," said his daughter sweetly. "It was made in all innocence and without intent to hurt Miss Mowbray."

"Of course, of course, my dear, and Miss Mowbray is too sensible to take offence. Let us change the subject."

Shortly afterwards, Marjorie left the room, unperceived by all but John Weston, who followed her and waited in the hall until she was muffled and ready to go home.

"I was too tired to remain longer now," she said wearily when she perceived him. "Goodnight, Mr. Weston. Don't look so concerned. I am quite well now."

"I may see you as far as your door, may I not?" he asked entreatingly.

"Yes, certainly, if you will be so good. Though, indeed, in this quiet town one has no need of escort. It is not like London."

"There are a lot of drunken fellows about just now, and I am afraid they will do our workmen harm. I have a number of labourers employed on my farm out near the Manor House, and on a Saturday afternoon, when they come into the town, they meet these fellows and have a drink together. I wish I could put a stop to it. Drink will ruin my respectable workers and their families."

"You must talk to the minister about it," replied Marjorie, as she reached her own door. "Mr. Welsh is a good and energetic man. You and he might work a reform between you."

When she had taken off her wraps, she returned to her parlour, and lighting a lamp sat down to the table. There was a small pile of books before her: Euclid, Algebra, and Political Economy. The first of these she opened, taking a pencil and a sheet of paper from the table drawer. But she could not work. Her head was still giddy and her hands trembled. She tried one proposition, then another; but it was of no use. She found that the simplest of them bore no meaning for her. She could not even comprehend the words:

"Find the centre of a circle."

What could be easier? She tried again and again, but it was of no avail. She could not even make the circle on which to work.

"I must try and steady my nerves," she murmured despairingly. "I could understand all this pretty well last night, so why not tonight? If I do not hurry, I shall not be ready in a year to teach Mr. Absalom Marsh's 'deep' subjects. Poor children! I could educate them well but for that notion of his. I am not taking his money for nothing. I see an improvement already in the older girls, and I think they are beginning to like me too. Mary Higgs brought me flowers yesterday, and her mother thanked me for the improvement in her girl's behaviour at home. Surely I am not taking money for nothing.

"Why does Miss Louisa Marsh dislike me? I would not object to her coming into the school if she taught the children anything; but their time has been wasted hitherto, and their attention distracted by those visits. I simply dare not waste the school hours. Real, hard work must be done and a real improvement visible, at least to my eyes. Otherwise I should be neglecting my duty and stealing Mr. Marsh's money."

It was yet early in the night. The town clock had just struck nine. It was too soon to go to bed, and too late to visit Miss Macnab. Study was an impossibility. Should she go out for half an hour and try what effect a short walk would have? It might make her head better, and enable her to sleep. In her present state of unrest and nervousness it would be quite useless for her to go to bed.

So, wrapping herself up warmly again, she went out into the dark streets, forgetting that some of Mr. Absalom Marsh's guests might see her, or that she might meet some of those drunken factory men of whom she had heard so much.

When out of the main street, she paused. Which way should she go? The road ahead looked dark and lonely, but she would get a breath of fresh air there. It was not so well lighted as the town, but there were lamps on it at intervals for a couple of miles or more. She would have light enough to see where she was going for that distance at any rate.

Having come to this conclusion, she moved rapidly along, the quick motion causing her to feel better already. She met no one save an old woman, who bade her a smiling "goodnight." There were tall trees here and there on the roadside, and they looked mysterious and strange in the quivering lamplight. She smiled once as she caught herself starting back when one of those spectral trunks appeared suddenly beside her.

Would not Nettie smile could she see her, matter-of-fact Marjorie, walking along a lonely country road at night to still restless nervousness, and starting in momentary affright because a leafless tree showed unexpectedly in the lamplight?

When she had gone some distance from the town, she thought she would turn back, as she felt much refreshed both in mind and body. Perhaps sleep would come to her now. Pausing for a moment, she became aware that an unusually brilliant light was flooding the dark road.

She looked round for the cause, and discovered on the opposite side of the way a high iron gate, the entrance into the estate, and on each side of this gate, fastened on the top of two goat's heads in iron, two lamps. She could see the long black beards of the goats illuminated by the light from above them, which shone through the glass.

While she was standing looking at the strange heads and shoulders of the iron animals, the gate was opened, and a little woman in a fur cloak stepped slowly and feebly out into the road. She stood leaning on a silver-headed stick, and seemed to be waiting for the night air to revive and strengthen her also.

Presently she raised her head and looked up at the goats' heads too, and then at the starless sky beyond. Hers was the face of a very old woman, wrinkled, age-lined, with a pile of white hair above the low forehead, and an anxious, expectant look in the small, sunken eyes. There was a hopeless expression also on the white face, and her whole attitude was suggestive of anxious seeking and waiting.

For whom could she be so anxiously seeking and waiting? Marjorie could see no one. That expression had not come into her face then; rather it seemed to be the growth of years and years of sorrow. As she turned to re-enter the gate, her glance fell upon Marjorie standing in the road. A slow wonder crept into her old eyes, and she gazed steadily.

Then she raised her hand appealingly, and cried in a faint, broken voice, "Stop." The old woman looked up and down it, but her dim eyes could not pierce the badly lighted darkness, and her unsteady steps would not carry her far from the gate with the black goats' heads.

Marjorie hurried homewards with an uncertain, stumbling haste. She had seen the Wanderer, as Miss Macnab called her, the woman who for fifteen long years had been seeking for those wronged step-children of hers. Ah well, she had evidently suffered for her ill-doing. How strange that she should have been the subject of conversation that very evening in the house of Mr. Absalom Marsh. How weird she looked now, standing between those two goats' heads, while the yellow light fell from the lamps.

When Marjorie arrived at her home again, she resolved she would go to bed and try to sleep; for if she did not sleep, she would not be able to teach her school on the morrow. But all through her uneasy slumbers she saw the old woman, and she heard that weak voice calling out, "Stop." She even dreamed a broken, troubled dream about what she had seen. She thought she had stopped as she was bidden, and had scoffed at the little age-bowed figure in the gateway; and had uttered harsh, unkind words about evil-doers being punished for their wickedness even in this world. She dreamed further that the faint voice had answered meekly,

"Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against us."

When she opened her eyes the next morning, those words were running in her head. "Fifteen long years of repentance. Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us."

### Chapter 7

Miss Macnab on Class Meeting

IN the fair, bright spring weather, the country round Market Hawley looked happy and smiling. The tender green of the trees and grass, the pale primroses, and the many sweet-smelling blossoms that peeped out from the shelter of the young hedges charmed Marjorie's vision, and ought to have gladdened her heart. She was now much beloved by her scholars, and by their parents too, for the most part, in whose homes she was no stranger.

She met John Weston frequently in Miss Macnab's pleasant parlour, and he and she became close friends, consulting one another on many a scheme for the benefit of the working folk of Market Hawley. Mr. Welsh, the young minister, was also a friend of hers, and she assisted him with her singing on the Temperance Evenings which he and John Weston had established to try and check the evil of drunkenness which had somehow gained a footing in the town. These meetings were held in the schoolroom adjoining the Wesleyan Chapel, and were well attended and very popular.

There was one subject upon which Mr. Welsh and Marjorie could not agree, and that was Class Meeting. She never felt inclined to attend the young minister's meeting for mutual prayer, and for conversation concerning Christ's kingdom, and the best method of increasing it upon earth. In this little gathering there was nothing to make the members uncomfortable or nervous.

A hymn was sung and a short prayer offered by Mr. Welsh, or some good woman who felt inclined to pray. Then a few verses of the Bible were taken as a foundation for the conversation which followed, and in which any joined who wished. They related to one another anything of interest which might have occurred to them in their efforts to aid, cheer, and lead aright those with whom they had come in contact during the week. If they desired to say anything about their own inner life, they said it, but they did not stand up to say it. In fact, it was an ordinary meeting of friends, only that the conversation was entirely of Christ and of His kingdom.

One evening as Marjorie was sitting at tea with Miss Macnab, Mr. Welsh's meeting became the subject of conversation.

"He is rather upset, poor man, because you will not attend his class meeting. My dear Marjorie, I really wish you would. It is nice, you may be sure, when I go so regularly. There are class meetings and class meetings. I expect I know the sort of thing with which you are acquainted. The minister gives out a verse of a hymn, the members rise and sing it in a straggling, half-hearted fashion, wondering the while how they will word their 'experience,' which they must repeat presently. I say repeat, advisedly. Then perhaps the minister prays for a minute or two. After that, the members seat themselves until the minister speaks again, and this time he relates his 'experience.' No doubt what he says is right enough, and good as far as it goes; but no one understands very clearly what he has said, for will not their own turn come shortly? Then they rise to their feet one after the other, and one whispers a few words in a faltering voice, which no one hears. Another repeats a verse of a hymn; another weeps without intermission; another more courageous, and more accustomed to the business, perhaps than the others, speaks for five minutes about the goodness of God generally.

"Now, which of these has related her 'experience'? Has the member who wept but spoke no words? Has the member who whispered in an inaudible voice? Has even the member who spoke for five minutes? It is a serious thing to talk of relating one's 'experience.' Who would reveal the innermost workings of her heart to any mortal? It is a wrong word altogether to use, and might often lead to hypocrisy. The member is on his or her feet; he must say something; he tries to do so. But what good can such a meeting do any person?

"No, Marjorie, there is no pleasure, no freedom, and no help in such a meeting. There are some people, I suppose who like it, or the thing would not exist. For the one person it assists, it injures a dozen, especially young people. That is really the reason why so many young people avoid going to what is generally understood to be class meeting. It is about time that the ministers gave the subject their serious consideration. If they don't do so, they will soon have no members, and I don't wonder at it. But, Marjorie dear, Mr. Welsh's meeting is the right sort of thing. Before it is half over you get warmed up to talk. You know there is no need for your doing so; that no one will be astonished or look reproachfully at you if you are silent; but somehow you don't think about it. You put in your little word quite naturally, although before you started to go to the meeting you had no intention of speaking, except to exchange salutations with your friends."

"I am sure Mr. Welsh's meeting is everything that is nice," returned Marjorie, half smiling at Miss Macnab's energy, "but I don't feel inclined to attend it at present. I have gone to such an uncomfortable class meeting as you describe, and I was generally too frightened to get much good from it."

"Of course you were," said the little spinster energetically. "I do feel so indignant sometimes, and so incapable of speech on this matter. I once persuaded a young friend to go to a class meeting professedly for the young, and I assure you, my dear, I could have cried with vexation afterwards. She asked me if I thought it an enjoyable affair. She said the Episcopal Church people had no such institution, and they were Christians also; and she really thought they were in the right of it, for she could not understand how it particularly served any good purpose. It would be wrong to say I was not angry -- I was really and truly angry, and no nonsense about it."

"But, Miss Macnab, Mr. Welsh's style of meeting is very unusual, I think. Does not Mr. Absalom Marsh hold a class in the way you dislike, and he is a member of Mr. Welsh's chapel?"

"Yes, and enjoys it too. But it is for older brothers and sisters, and they are contented with it. Let those who get good from it have it, and let those who want something else have it also. There should be Mr. Welsh's kind of meeting for young people, and it should have a young leader to conduct it; then all would be right. No, I am not talking heresy. I believe most heartily in class meeting, but let it be a living, helping, enjoyable, comfortable affair. Then young people will neither scoff at it nor make excuses for not attending it. I am not a young person, but I prefer Mr. Welsh's meeting to that conducted by Mr. Absalom Marsh. I am afraid I have tired you with all this talking."

"Oh no, your views on the subject are mine exactly."

"You don't look well, my dear. You should brighten up with the brightening weather. Everything has gone well with you, so you have no reason to be melancholy."

"No, indeed," returned Marjorie earnestly. "The good folk of Market Hawley have been most indulgent to my failings -- all except Miss Marsh. I cannot imagine how I have offended her. I know I would not have any visiting in school hours to distract the attention of the children, but that was because I felt I must try and teach the children in earnest, and make them progress if possible."

"Hers is an envious, jealous disposition," said Miss Macnab quietly, but with a half smile. "She was head of Market Hawley until you came, and the young minister was her constant companion. Even John Weston used to talk to her sometimes, though I must say her bitter tongue was generally too much for him. Now both these men have taken you for their friend and adviser. John Weston was an old friend. Yes, I know. But the minister never saw you before you came to Market Hawley."

"Oh, Miss Macnab, please don't talk as if my influence was greater than hers. I don't deserve all the kindness I have received, and from her father too. I am very sorry Mr. Welsh has ceased to be so close with her since my arrival here. He ought not to have acted so. It was not right of him."

"My dear, no one says Mr. Welsh wants to marry either you or Miss Louisa, but simply you give him real assistance in his work, and she did not."

Marjorie looked so relieved that her friend laughed. "You are so evidently pleased he has no matrimonial intentions, that you forget to be angry with me for saying such a thing to you."

"How could I be angry with you, whatever you might say to me?" answered Marjorie affectionately.

There was to be a Temperance Meeting that evening in the Wesleyan Schoolroom, so Marjorie hurried away from Miss Macnab's tea table to take part in it. The room was crowded, many working men and women filling up the seats.

First there were two short speeches, then Miss Louisa Marsh sang a Temperance song, then more speeches and stories, and then a song from Marjorie Mowbray. This latter took the fancy of the women folk particularly, it was so sweet, so moving; and they urged their husbands and brothers to try and get her to sing again. When Marjorie heard the clapping and the stamping and the calls for just another song, she wondered what she could sing them, for she had not brought the music of a second song with her.

"Do give them something else, Miss Marjorie," whispered John Weston. "I believe not one of them will go to a whisky shop tonight."

Mr. Absalom Marsh had been bringing out a second set of papers on Joseph Addison in Cleanliness, and at the end of the last of the papers he had given a hymn written by that great man, as a proof of his godliness. Marjorie had always liked that special hymn, and she had composed a tuneful chant to it for her own private singing. This, she now resolved to let the audience hear. Most of the men and women present read Cleanliness, so they would be familiar with the words.

She seated herself at the piano, facing the impatient audience, and sang "The Spacious Firmament on High," her splendid, well trained contralto voice echoing solemnly through the long room.

When she had finished, the applause was great.

"Why, 'tis the hymn as Master put in the paper this very week. Paper says 'twas written by a great man as lived more'n a hundred years agone," said one of the men; while the women cried over Marjorie's grand, solemn voice, and felt awed and subdued in spite of themselves.

"If the hand as made us is divine, we'll let the beer shop be tonight," muttered some of the elder men. "It would be a downright shame to go a-brawlin' and a -singin' artcr that 'ere grand thing."

So most of the audience went quietly and soberly past the public houses that night, and the solemn, beautiful voice of the singer, and the "sensible, splendid, reasonable words of that 'ere song," rang for many a day in the ears of the Market Hawley folk.

### Chapter 8

Evil Seed Sown

"SHE did it just to please you. Pa. She knew you'd been writing those articles, and so of course she sang the hymn."

Mr. Absalom Marsh and his family were at breakfast on the morning after the Temperance Meeting. The editor of Cleanliness was in a deeply gratified frame of mind. To think that Miss Mowbray should have sung Joseph Addison's hymn in that splendid voice of hers, to such a crowd of people! Why, of course it brought Cleanliness into great notice, and emphasized in a most original and highly graceful manner the good opinion the paper expressed of that eminent man.

"Well, my dear, and if she did it to please me, the act is more commendable still. But I don't believe that was her motive. She is a young woman with a very well regulated mind, and she evidently reads and appreciates such men as Addison and Shakespeare, and others of our great literary masters. I think I shall ask her to write an article for Cleanliness. She deserves some public recognition of her merits."

"If you do, Pa, I won't write for it again, and then what'll you do for your tales and lighter matter?"

Mr. Marsh eyed his daughter solemnly through his spectacles. "What has Miss Mowbray done to offend you, Louisa? I don't understand you in the least.''

"She refused my assistance in the school, and now she would turn me off Cleanliness. I declare it's too bad."

"She has nothing to do with turning you off Cleanliness. It was you who said you would write no more for it. I am afraid you are unreasonable and even unjust. But I hope not. My daughter must set an example of all that is right."

"And so she does, Absalom; so she does. There, Louisa lovey, don't cry. Your Pa has no intention of asking Miss Mowbray to write for his paper."

"I am sure I don't know what is the matter with Louisa," said the much-perplexed father, as he saw tears rolling down his daughter's face.

"The matter is that that horrid Miss Mowbray is liked better than me. Mr. Welsh and Mr. Weston both run after her, and even my own father likes her better than me now. But she's deceiving you all. She teaches nothing in the school -- only the plainest things that the children could learn anywhere. You have no Euclid, or Algebra, or Political Economy there."

"She is not deceiving me," said Mr. Absalom Marsh, in a dignified tone of voice. "I know why she is leaving those deeper subjects alone just at present, and I am quite contented."

"Oh, of course you are. She can do what she likes with you. But I tell you she's deceiving you all." With a burst of angry sobs, Louisa Marsh ran from the breakfast table, leaving her mother much distressed and bewildered, and her father annoyed and indignant.

Louisa had no foundation whatsoever for her repeated assertion that Marjorie was deceiving them all, but she thought it sounded tragical and mysterious, and she had been recently reading a book in which those elements predominated. She disliked Marjorie heartily, and evil had such a strong hold over her just then that she would have done almost anything to injure the woman she called her enemy.

As she crossed the hall she saw a man standing at the open hall door, evidently waiting to see someone. She would have passed on without speaking to him, but he made a step forward and took off his old, battered cap.

"May I speak a minute with you, Miss?"

She then recognized him as James Higgs, a workman of her father's who had been dismissed the previous week for continued drunkenness.

"Well, what have you to say? I suppose you want to speak to my father."

"No, Miss, 'twouldn't be no use yet. You might ask him to take me back, Miss. I'm very badly treated; that I am. Since them Temperance Meetin's began, there's no allowance made for a drop o' drink at all. I used to always have my sup -- ay, and the missus too -- and no harm done. But now the missus she's become temperance, and Mary goes to school, and I'm turned out o' my place because I takes a drop. I haven't a penny piece as I can call my own now. Missus, she earns money enough, but she won't give me none o' it for a drop. I'm very badly off."

"You ought to go to Miss Mowbray, and not come to me. She told Pa to turn you away, very likely, and she made your wife and daughter abstainers. You have her to thank for it all. But here's a half-crown for you. I can't speak to father just now about you. I may another time; only if I do, you'll go on loving Miss Mowbray just the same as if she and not I had befriended you. You're all so fond of her, that your master's daughter counts for nothing."

Louisa walked away, and the man, clutching the silver coin, and gazing at it with eager, unbelieving eyes, stumbled along the street to the nearest public house, which he entered and called for a glass of whisky and water. He was already partially intoxicated, and Miss Marsh's words took hold of his muddled senses.

Evidently, Miss Marsh did not like the school mistress either. She spoke as if she pitied him, and she had given him a half-crown. Yes, he certainly was to be pitied, and of course it was all the fault of Miss Mowbray. He saw that clearly enough now, though he hadn't seen it before. Miss Marsh was kind and generous: Miss Mowbray hard and cruel. Why should he let his daughter stay any longer at the school of such a woman? True, the school belonged to Mr. Absalom Marsh, but he liked Miss Mowbray and employed her to teach his school. He would be angry also if the girl was taken away, as taken away she most certainly should be, and this very day too. The sooner the better. School had commenced an hour ago. Now was the time to go and do the deed.

Somewhat in this manner the half-drunken man reasoned within himself, as he drank his whisky and water slowly, and looked at the half-crown with affectionate eyes. He did not want to change it to pay for his drink, but he feared the bar keeper would refuse to allow him to leave the shop without payment; so he staggered to his feet, paid what was due and went out into the street, taking the turning that led to the school.

Mary Higgs was working out a sum for the benefit of her class, when her father walked into the schoolroom and presented himself before the astonished gaze of Marjorie. There was complete silence as all eyes turned upon the intruder. He stumbled on to Marjorie's desk, where she sat staring at him in too great an amazement to speak.

"Ay, you may well be frightened, Miss," he said loudly, mistaking the cause of her silence. "You've done me a fine mischief with your deceitful, temperance ways. You've broke up the peace o' my home, and not content with that, you've took my situation from me. Oh yes, I heard all about it this morning. You're a wicked young woman, that's what you are, and I dare anyone to deny it. You're not fit to teach my young and innocent daughter. Get your books and things, Mary, and come home along o' me. This is no place for you."

Mary was frightened, as indeed were most of the children, because James Higgs was a big man, and he had a loud voice when he was drunk. Marjorie recovered from her amazement at the first sound of the man's voice. She saw there was little use in talking to a man in that condition. Besides, she could scarcely detain Mary against her father's will, even though he was drunk.

"Leave Mary until school is over, today," she said quietly. "Then you and her mother can talk about whether she is to continue her attendance or not."

"That I won't," he returned impudently. "You want to make more mischief, do you? You've took my situation, and you've spoiled my missus, but you won't do no more."

"You are quite mistaken. I had nothing to do with your losing your situation," said Marjorie firmly. "Now, we have had enough of this. You had better go with your father at once, Mary, for work has been interfered with long enough."

Mary tearfully prepared to do Marjorie's bidding. She was not afraid to go home, for she knew her mother would take care of her; but she was ashamed of her father's conduct, and she wanted to finish that sum to get her marks. There was to be an examination in the summer, and prizes were to be given. All good marks during the year were then counted up, and a special prize given for them. Now she would lose her marks for the remainder of the day. She half thought she would refuse to go with her father, but one quick look into his angry red face decided her. She hastened her movements, lest he should say something more offensive, or even raise his hand to strike Miss Mowbray.

"To think I should lose my good place along o' you," he muttered, glaring angrily at Marjorie.

She began to grow somewhat uneasy. Should she order him out? If she did, he might hit her with one of those great hands of his, which looked as if they could give a heavy blow. He was scarcely accountable for his actions just then, and in his drunken rage he might do anything. If she could only send for assistance. Evidently the children were too frightened to think of leaving their seats, and she did not deem it wise to tell any of them to go and bring in someone who could turn him out. How long Mary was in gathering her books together!

"I'm ready now, Father."

"Oh, you are, are you? Well, I'll just give this fine young woman a bit more o' my mind. Hear now, Miss. Stop your interferin' with decent workin' folk. We don't want none o' your temperance rubbish, nor neither your fine school teachin'! We was well enough off when we hadn't no such doin's. You'd talk forever, you would, but you wouldn't give me no half-crown. Oh no; you'd take my situation from me, but you wouldn't give me no half-crown. How'm I to live, I'd like to know, when I ain't got no situation? O' course you don't care about that, you don't. If we starve along o' your speechin' and teachin', what's that to you? Oh, I'd like well to learn you a lesson, Miss, as might show you what I thinks o' such a one as you."

"Come home, Father; I'm quite ready."

"My situation took from me, and nothin' to get me a sup o' drink," he went on, totally ignoring his daughter.

He stood right in front of Marjorie, so that she could not leave her desk without pushing past him. She sat calmly enough, looking at him, a short mahogany ruler in her hand. Inwardly she was uneasy, and frightened. She did not wish the children to think she was afraid, but she did fervently hope that one of them would be inspired to slip out for assistance. It was this seeming calmness that prevented James Higgs from approaching her. Her quiet eyes, and the untrembling white fingers that held the ruler, daunted him a little in spite of himself.

Suddenly Mary dropped her books on the form behind her, and giving a swift glance into Marjorie's face, stole softly down the schoolroom, turned the handle noiselessly, and ran out into the street. To her delight and relief, she saw John Weston striding along towards her, some books for the school library in his hands.

"Oh, Mr. Weston, please come in. Father's drunk, and he's annoying Miss Mowbray."

In another minute the young man stood within the schoolroom.

"I says I'll do what I likes with Mary," James Higgs was saying. "I'm master in my own house."

"By all means, be master in your own house, but Miss Mowbray is master here, and she'll be pleased to see you take your departure."

In a perfect fury, James Higgs turned to look at the speaker, and Marjorie heaved a great sigh of relief.

"I s'pose you mean I'm to go out, but I won't, Mr. Weston."

"No? Then I must help you to go."

Before the astonished man could say another word, he felt a strong hand on his collar, and he was almost carried out into the street.

"Now, look here, James Higgs. Never annoy Miss Mowbray in any way again. I'm a strong man, and I always beat a coward who frightens a woman. You're drunk enough, but you understand me."

"I'll have the law o' you, Mr. Weston, for attackin' me."

"So you may, but you'll be a wise man if you remember what I have just said." And with a glance at the staggering man that made him recoil, John Weston re-entered the schoolroom.

"I'll have my revenge o' her for this. I'll make her pay for this bit o' work. She won't always have Mr. John Weston along o' her.

### Chapter 9

Concerning Many Things

MR. ABSALOM MARSH was very indignant when he heard of James Higgs' conduct. He sent for him and told him that Miss Mowbray had nothing to do with his losing his situation: his drunkenness and general bad habits were the causes. Now, after this cowardly, abominable behaviour, he might never hope to be reinstated. He had better leave the town, and try some other place where he was unknown.

But Higgs believed he owed his dismissal to Marjorie, for Miss Marsh had said so, and he determined to remain in Market Hawley until he could in some way punish her for it, and for his wife's teetotalism. Of course he spoke to no one of his determination and he never went near the schoolhouse again, nor interfered with his daughter's schoolwork; but none the less did he brood over his "wrongs" and over his intended "revenge," as he phrased it.

"Is not your sister coming to spend her holiday with you, Marjorie?" asked Miss Macnab, as she and Marjorie sat in the former's parlour, chatting and drinking tea as usual.

"No, Nettie will spend them at the house of a friend in Brighton. She has been working hard, and she needs recreation."

"But won't you be disappointed? You were looking forward so much to her visit."

"Yes, I confess I will be a little disappointed; but she is young and pretty, and she needs amusement and society. I am afraid she would find my lodgings rather dull. Her friend's house will be full of visitors; she will be cheered and refreshed for the autumn's work."

"Then, perhaps, you will go to her for your holiday?"

"Oh no, I am not very close with her friends in Brighton. I couldn't go there, and they would not care to have me either. Young people enjoy the society of young people."

"Do you call yourself an old person?"

"I am many years Nettie's senior. I must be contented to wait until Christmas for her visit."

"And at Christmas she will go to the house of some other young friend, and you will be again disappointed."

"Why, Miss Macnab, you speak quite angrily; quite as if you were disappointed too," said Marjorie, smiling.

"So I am, my dear. I have often heard it said that love begets love, but I don't believe it now."

"If you think Nettie doesn't love me, you are wrong. It is only natural that a young and pretty girl should like a little enjoyment."

Miss Macnab said nothing more on the subject, for fear of hurting Marjorie, but she felt rather indignant against this unknown sister.

Next day John Weston called at the little two-storied house in the main street. Miss Macnab attacked him at once on the subject of Marjorie's sister.

"Well, she is very pretty, and she is much younger than Miss Marjorie, as you know," said he in reply. "No doubt Nettie is fond of her sister in a degree, but she loves herself best of all, and she thinks always of her own good first. Miss Marjorie works for her and loves her with a great, unselfish love, and Nettie takes it all calmly, and as a matter of course."

"Just what I imagined she was like," answered Miss Macnab. "I knew it from her letters, which Marjorie shows me sometimes in great pride and delight."

"Yes, Miss Marjorie would give up everything for her, even the man she loved."

"Ah," ejaculated the little spinster, with a quick gleam of intelligence in her shrewd eyes.

"Miss Marjorie has some strange, distorted ideas of duty towards her sister," continued the young man gravely; "and you could scarcely anger her more than by insinuating that Nettie is selfish or cold-hearted."

In those days, Lion accompanied Marjorie in her walks outside the town. Miss Macnab insisted upon it, in case that man Higgs should again insult or annoy her. One evening Marjorie went alone a short distance along the road that led to Manor House. She had been studying after school hours, and she was tired enough to wish for the faint summer breeze, and for the perfume of the summer wild flowers.

She did not go as far as Ashton Manor House, because it was some way from the town, and Lion was not with her. As she walked, she thought of all that had happened since her arrival in Market Hawley, and she wondered once again why it was that Miss Louisa Marsh seemed to dislike her so much. Then she thought of Nettie, and hoped she was enjoying herself with her friends in Brighton. That great picture ought soon to be painted now. No doubt the girl was working industriously at it, for she would not waste the additional money this Market Hawley teaching was giving her. How nice it would be when that picture was painted. They would have such an attractive little house somewhere near London, for Nettie must not live in the country, she hated it so -- and everything would be so happy and comfortable.

Pleasant smiles curved Marjorie's lips as she dreamed those bright-coloured dreams. Suddenly a dark form started up from the shadow of the hedge, and a voice, hoarse and drunken, ordered her to stop. Once before on this very road she had been told to stop -- rather, entreated to stop -- and she had turned and fled. Now that she was ordered to stop, she stood quite still for an instant; but it was astonishment and fear that compelled her momentary obedience.

"No, no, don't think as you can get away this time, Miss Mowbray. Give me back my situation, I say."

In his drunken rage, Higgs moved a step nearer to her, and raised his hand. She gave a low, half-suppressed cry, when immediately a large black body flung itself against the man, bringing him to the ground with a force that nearly stunned him. Then Lion stood over the prostrate form, and showed his strong white teeth in a decidedly dangerous manner.

"There, Lion, that will do. What a brave, good dog you are. Come home with me now, and leave the man alone. He can't hurt me. Come."

Lion reluctantly left her annoyer, and with a parting growl that terrified the man into thinking he was going to be torn to pieces, and that the process had already begun, moved away beside her, his head well in the air, as if he was conscious of having done a very meritorious deed.

When Marjorie and the dog were out of sight, Higgs rose from his dusty bed and shook himself, and felt carefully all over his person to discover the wounds those great teeth must have made. He was astonished as well as relieved to find that nothing ailed him but fright.

"Why, I thought as how I must have been tore all to bits. What a brute that is!" he muttered, as he walked slowly towards the town, keeping a cautious look out lest Lion should appear again. "There's somethin' always a-interferin' between me and her. But I'll have another try. She must get me back my situation, or give me a big lot o' money to make up for it. I can't live on odd jobs. I must have a settled thing, for the missus is too close with her money to let me have much. What a big, strong dog that is. He knocked me over as easy as if I was a baby. He won't be always with her, neither. I'll have another try. Third time lucky, they say."

The brain of the man had become so confused from constant drinking that he was growing incapable of any clear, sensible thought. He had lost his situation; his wife no longer helped him to obtain drink; Miss Marsh gave him half-a-crown and told him he owed all his troubles to Miss Mowbray. So, night and day the one idea held possession of him. Miss Mowbray must be forced to make up to him all he had lost through her interference.

Marjorie made mention to no one of her second annoyance from Higgs. She thought he would be afraid to approach her again, because of Lion, and she hoped that time would cure him of his animosity against her.

The summer passed slowly enough. She would have been lonely and low-spirited, but for the cheerful society of Miss Macnab. That energetic, happy little woman never suffered from melancholy. This world was a good enough place if you did not expect to be either perfect yourself or meet with people who were so, she would say. If you tried to love God with all your heart, and your neighbour as yourself, you would not be far wrong; and, after all, there was Christ Himself and His Heaven awaiting you.

Marjorie derived no consolation from such thoughts, for she grew paler and more spiritless daily. Perhaps she did not think them at all. Perhaps she was too much occupied with her school, and with her sister's welfare, to give much attention to them. Miss Macnab began to wonder at the change in her favourite, and to grow uneasy concerning it. She could not understand it. Ill health was not the cause of it, at least in any great degree; for although Marjorie suffered from headaches occasionally, they were not frequent enough to produce such pale cheeks and such sad eyes. Miss Macnab resolved she would try in some way to effect a cure.

"John Weston," the elderly lady said suddenly to that astonished young man one morning, when he called in to see her on his way home after making some necessary purchases for his household, "I am very much disappointed in you lately. I am indeed. This is holiday time. Business is slow, and schools are closed, but you seem to have quite forgotten all that. Dear me, how selfish you men become without wives to look after you."

"I quite agree with that last remark, but I don't in the least understand what went before it."

"No, of course you don't. You profess an affection for me. I am an old friend of yours, and yet you have not invited me to spend a day at your place. Now, here are the holidays drawing to a close, and Marjorie and I have not been out there. You have never offered us a day's enjoyment in the country this summer, and you could have done so."

"Why, Miss Macnab, you always come whenever you wish to do so. You told me yourself that you disliked invitations. As for Miss Marjorie, I never dreamed of asking her. I have no mother or sisters. I have only a housekeeper and servants. Yet ... if you think she would come, and if you could put up with my housekeeper's ideas of things...."

He stopped and looked at her, not knowing how to put into words the joy he felt at the prospect of seeing Marjorie in his home.

"Of course she will come, and I will come, and we will be delighted with all that we shall see, hear, and eat. It will be a change for us. Have you invited us?"

"Certainly, I have," he answered, laughingly. "Had I better ask Miss Marjorie personally?"

"No, leave the invitation with me, and I will see that she accepts it. I will tell her that you want us both to take luncheon with you today at one o'clock, and that you will send a wagonette for us about half-past eleven. There, will that do?"

"Yes, but I must hurry home now, or neither housekeeper nor wagonette will be ready."

Marjorie accepted the invitation in some slight astonishment. Miss Macnab's energy overcame any objection she might have had to the project; but, indeed, she did not make many objections. It would evidently please her friend if she went with her to the Manor House Farm, and John Weston would be glad to see them. So why should she not go?

Accordingly, when the expected wagonette arrived in the main street, Miss Macnab and Marjorie were ready waiting for it. It was driven by an old servant. Evidently the master was too busy to come in to Market Hawley again that day. He met them at the great door of the farm, and welcomed them heartily.

"I had to give the headman orders for the day, so that I might have my time at your disposal without interruption," he whispered to Miss Macnab, while Marjorie passed on before through the open door. "And I do hope you will be able to eat your luncheon."

### Chapter 10

John Weston's Proposal

THEY were able to eat their luncheon, and to enjoy it, too; for the rapid drive through the cool air had given them an appetite. Then John Weston took them out into the wide, high-walled fruit gardens, and gave them plums and pears, and a few apples that had ripened early, and showed them the glasshouses which were full of gorgeous-hued flowers and delicate, sweet-smelling lilies.

He made them a big bunch of the flowers to take back to Market Hawley with them, and he presented each of them with a tiny nosegay as a breast knot. Then he led them through the winding walks under the trees in the grounds of the Manor House, for the farm and the house were joined by the estate, but they would not go as far as the house itself, for fear the Wanderer should be there, as Miss Macnab said.

By-and-by the sun and the constant walking began to be too much for Miss Macnab. "I will go in to that shady parlour of yours, John Weston, and have a sleep. We must be home in time for the meeting tonight, for I never miss my class meeting; so I will take a rest to refresh myself. You and Marjorie walk on without me, and amuse yourselves until I waken up."

With a smiling nod, she trotted briskly off in the direction of the house, leaving Marjorie and John alone.

"Well, now that you have seen it, how do you like the Manor Farm?" John asked, as he walked in the direction of a wooded hill, Marjorie walking by his side.

"It is very lovely here under the trees, and the gardens are beautiful, too; and the old house is comfortable and all that such a house should be," she answered slowly and, it seemed to John's ears, reluctantly. He felt somewhat disappointed, for he had hoped she would like it all so much.

"You don't speak very warmly of it. I thought you liked the country."

"Yes, so I do, very much, and indeed it has been pleasant here today," Marjorie answered earnestly.

Then he troubled her no further on the subject. No doubt she also was tired with walking in the sun; and she was not over-strong, as her white face gave token.

A silence fell upon them, broken only by the singing of birds and the distant sound of the men's voices in the fields. They seated themselves on a fallen tree trunk which lay just beside a great oak. Marjorie took off her hat in order to lean against the oak. Her eyelids drooped heavily over her tired eyes, and her thoughts strayed away to the owner of this pleasant place.

It was more than fifteen years ago now since that strange old woman had commenced her wanderings. Had she yet found the children for whom she searched? Perhaps she was now in Egypt or Palestine, following some imaginary clue. How very weary she must have become of it all! How she must have longed for rest!

Well, she might have rested long ago if she had wished. There was no one to force her to continue her search. The whole story was most improbable. It would be foolish to believe it for an instant. Report said that a never-ceasing remorse urged her onward and gave her no peace. What a strange thing was this remorse. People should be careful how they lightly committed sin, for this sorrow and penitence generally seized hold of them sooner or later. How sharp its sting, how strong its hold. It could take the colour from the cheek and the light from the eyes, and make one young in years seem as if stricken with age.

But surely that was only unavailing sorrow? "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." What of those who, having done ill, repent and obtain from God forgiveness for the sin? Might they not walk happily afterwards, having given up the sin? Yes, surely. Did not the Bible say so?

"Marjorie."

John Weston's voice broke the stillness, and startled her out of her strange daydreaming. She lifted her eyes from the grass and glanced up into his loving, fearless eyes.

He had risen to his feet and was standing before her, looking down on her uncovered brown hair, on her pale, fair face, into which a surprised colour had come.

"Marjorie, you once refused to marry me. You know best why you did so, but I think you cared enough for me then to be my wife. Will you have me now, dear? I have waited, as I always intend to do until you say 'yes.' Say it now. You need care and attention, and I will not watch you fading away before my eyes. What is wrong with you, I don't know; but I think if you would marry me, I would give you such love and nursing that you would be obliged to grow strong and well, and happy again. Will you come to me and try, my dear?"

Marjorie shuddered. "What, live in this Manor Farm? No, I could never do it. That old woman, with her wrinkled, questioning face would be always before me."

"No, we would not live here," he answered eagerly. "There is a large farm ten miles from here in the midst of most beautiful scenery, and close to a wood. I can buy that and settle there. Indeed, I have been saving for that purpose these years back, and now I have enough. It won't take me long to buy it and arrange it for you. You can send Nettie as much money as you like, and you can have our dear friend, Miss Macnab, to stay with us for months at a time. Now, my dearest, I am waiting for your 'yes'."

She listened to him in a charmed dream. Would she say "yes" and make him, and herself also, happy. Ah no, how could she think of it for one moment. If she had refused him eight years ago, how much more reason was there for refusing him now? She rose up and stood beside him on the grass under the trees.

"Please, don't ask me again. I cannot marry you."

"But if Nettie is the only difficulty, that is easily overcome," he urged.

"No, I could not take your money for her. I must do all I can for her myself, until her talent renders her independent. Let us be friends still, but don't ask me that question again. Come in and look for Miss Macnab. She will think we have forgotten her, and she wants to be home in time for her class meeting. Come."

He gazed at her silently for a minute, then he raised her hat from the ground, handed it to her, and turned away in the direction of the house. He had waited eight years for her. He could wait another year. He supposed he must try and be content. That was all he could do at present.

"You are not angry with me?" she asked wistfully, as they neared the door where Miss Macnab stood awaiting them.

"Oh, no," he answered quietly. "You will give me another answer some day. You have thought for no one but Nettie at present. You are right to love her so much, yet I cannot see why you would not take your husband's money to help her."

"Oh, you cannot understand why no one must work for her but myself, and why I must try and place her in an independent position. If I could tell you.... But, no, I must not tell anyone the story of our life."

"I was wondering when you two were going to appear," cried the little spinster, as they approached her. "You nearly forgot my meeting, John Weston."

"Well, you shall have the wagonette in a few minutes to make up for the delay, and I myself will drive you. Now, will not that atone?"

"Perhaps," she answered, as she looked anxiously at Marjorie's face. "The sun has made you paler than ever, child. Let us be going. I am afraid country air doesn't agree with you."

"Have tea here before you go, and then I can drop you at the door of the chapel," said John Weston, returning to them from the stables. "Tea will refresh you both, and the drive do you good."

Miss Macnab gladly agreed to this, for she was just wishing for a cup of tea. When the meal was over, they drove in quickly through the fresh evening air and arrived in good time at the chapel door. Here John left them, and they entered the classroom where some of the members were already assembled.

Marjorie was dismayed when she found herself actually in the classroom. She had submitted to Miss Macnab's guidance without in the least comprehending that she would find herself finally obliged to attend the class meeting. She had been so disturbed by John Weston's unexpected proposal, although she had not appeared to be so, that she scarcely comprehended what had been arranged by her friend. Now she had no excuse to offer. She must remain and listen to the proceedings of the meeting. Perhaps even they would ask her to speak. Ah, no, she forgot that there was no formal speaking in this class. Well, that was some comfort. Mr. Welsh gave out a hymn, which the members joined heartily in singing, then Mrs. West prayed.

"Now," said the minister, "we will read portions of the fifty-first Psalm together."

They all opened their Bibles, Marjorie reading out of one which a friend handed to her. The words of that psalm were graven on her memory for many a day afterwards.

"Have mercy upon me, O God, according to Thy loving-kindness: according unto the multitude of Thy tender mercies blot out my transgressions. Wash me throughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. For I acknowledge my transgressions: and my sin is ever before me Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean: wash me and I shall be whiter than snow. Make me to hear joy and gladness; that the bones which Thou hast broken may rejoice. Hide Thy face from my sins, and blot out all mine iniquities. Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me. Cast me not away from Thy presence; and take not Thy Holy Spirit from me. Restore unto me the joy of Thy salvation; and uphold me with Thy free spirit."

Then ensued a conversation between all present, each taking part in it as she felt inclined, and one and another relating interesting and pleasant things in connection with the subject which the psalm had brought before them. But Marjorie said nothing. She sat and seemed to listen indeed, but what she really heard was not their conversation. "Make me to hear joy and gladness; that the bones which Thou hast broken may rejoice. Hide Thy face from my sins, and blot out all mine iniquities. Restore unto me the joy of Thy salvation."

One after the other those words slowly passed through her mind, and took hold of her, and hindered other sound from entering her ears in any intelligible fashion.

Oh, for the joy of His salvation! It was months since she had known it. Almost ever since she had come to Market Hawley that load of sin had lain upon her. It had taken the colour from her cheek, the gladness from her heart. She had not prayed one happy prayer for many and many a day. What was the use of praying to God for His blessing and help, when she knew she was daily doing that which was evil? She was a transgressor, indeed, and her way had been very hard. How could anyone say that sin was pleasant? Why, it had weighed upon her like a nightmare. She was never free from the burden.

If she could but cast it off! If she could but make her confession, and give up doing the evil. The wages of sin are death, so how could she expect any good to come of it. No one could reap any benefit from such wages. A little resolution; perhaps a few bitter tears; a hot blush of shame; the loss of the esteem and love of her friends. Yes, surely, all that, but then -- the joy of His Salvation.

The meeting broke up, and the several members went their different ways, Marjorie and Miss Macnab walking together.

"Will you not come in, my dear, and spend the remainder of the evening with me? We will be so glad to have you. Lion and Tiger are as much your friends as I am, you know."

Marjorie smiled faintly. Yes, Lion was indeed her friend. "No, thank you; I cannot come tonight. I must go now to Mr. Absalom Marsh on business."

"Come into me after you have been with him."

But Marjorie shook her head. "Not tonight. Goodbye, dear friend. This will be the last kiss, perhaps, that you will ever give me."

She walked on up the main street, leaving Miss Macnab in a most perplexed and astonished condition.

"I'm afraid she's going to be very ill," muttered the little spinster, with tears in her eyes. "I'll call in the first thing in the morning and see how she is."

Meanwhile, Marjorie walked steadily on until she reached the house which had MR. ABSALOM MARSH engraved on a bright brass plate on its door. She lifted the heavy knocker and knocked.

### Chapter 11

Marjorie's Confession

"IS Mr. Marsh at home?"

"Yes'm," answered the maid who opened the door.

"Please show me into his study. I want to speak to him alone."

Mr. Absalom Marsh was busy over his account books when Marjorie was shown in. "Ah, Miss Mowbray, how do you do? Allow me to hand you a chair. I am busy, you see, as usual. But this work is not so congenial as looking over the proof sheets of Cleanliness, or digging deep into the life of some great man like Joseph Addison. As you wished especially to see me, I suppose it is some business matter. Anything wrong with the school?"

Marjorie's heart sank within her for one brief second, then she gathered up what little courage she had, and spoke. "I have come to make a confession to you, Mr. Marsh. Probably, after tonight you will not wish to see me in your house, but I cannot longer continue to deceive you and the parents of the schoolchildren. I am not a graduate of London University. You took it for granted that I was, because I came from London, and had such good testimonials to show to Mrs. Newton. I allowed you to deceive yourself and others. My testimonials are correct, and my attainments all that they say, but I have not been through any University course. I have never been happy since I deceived you. I have asked God to forgive me. I hope you will also forgive. Please, tell the children and their parents of my sin; or rather, I will do it myself. It would be only right for me to do so. Of course, I resign my post."

Mr. Marsh stared at her in the greatest astonishment. "You have come to tell me you are not a University graduate?" he gasped.

"It is so," she answered, bowing her head, while her face grew paler and her hands were clasped tremblingly in her lap.

He was silent, evidently thinking deeply over the startling, unexpected announcement. "Ah yes, I remember now quite well that I took it for granted you were from London University. In fact, it was my stupidity that tempted you to this sin."

"No, no," uttered Marjorie, "you had nothing to do with it. I was wicked, and I have repented every day of my life since then."

"Poor thing, poor thing! That is why you have been growing paler, and more delicate looking every day. We have all been noticing it, and wondering what was the matter. Forgive you? Of course I forgive you. I always thought you a fine woman, and I think you a finer woman now. Why, you know you might have gone on deceiving me, and I'd have been none the wiser. It must have been hard to confess such a thing openly. That requires grace, my dear; much grace. God must have poured it into your heart; He must, indeed, to have enabled you to confess. Yes, 'If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.' What a great word that 'cleanse' is! Holy Scripture uses it constantly. There, that is all right. Not another word on the subject, my dear. Resign the school, indeed! No such thing. Why should you? I never had such a teacher. The children are well and happy, and learning to be upright, useful women. The mothers love you, we all esteem you. You are a godly woman, and that is the first thing in the world."

Marjorie listened with tear-filled eyes and an overflowing heart to the good man's words. Then, when he had ended, she rose up and bowed her lips on the hand he held out to her.

"You are good," she said brokenly; "not I."

"No, no, say no more about it."

To his extreme amazement, a large tear fell from his own eye down on to his hand. The dignified editor of Cleanliness weeping! The greatest man in the town showing such signs of emotion! Certainly not. He must not give way to such weakness.

"Now, then," he said briskly, "you must not talk of resigning the school. It may be a little difficult at first, but they all like you too well to think hardly of you. I'll tell you how we'll manage it. I'll call a meeting of the mothers and the children tomorrow, and I'll explain the thing to them. You can come also, and say a few words to them. That will settle the matter at once."

Marjorie went home with a lighter heart than she had known for many and many a day. Miss Macnab and Nettie had to be told yet, and it would be difficult to face the children and their parents and explain her deception; but still, how good God was! He had not only forgiven her Himself, but He had caused Mr. Marsh to forgive her, and to speak kind, reassuring words to her.

Before she went to bed, she wrote a letter to Nettie, telling her of the deception and confession, and how she was going to retain the school after all. After that, she laid her head on her pillow and slept peacefully.

The next morning Miss Macnab called quite early, before Marjorie's breakfast things were removed.

"Why, you are looking much better this morning. I declare, I feel quite relieved. You talked so strangely to me last night that I thought you were going to have a bad illness."

Marjorie rose and placed her friend on a chair, and stood before her. "You must not talk anymore to me until I have told you of my ill-doing. I have deceived you too, for you thought me a good woman, and I was a very wicked one."

Then she made her confession, humbly and sadly, and waited for her friend's condemnatory words. Miss Macnab rose and put her arms round her and kissed her many times. "I have nothing to forgive. You forget that I also am a woman. I love and respect you more than ever now, if that could be."

By-and-by Marjorie said, "You know now why I would never go to class meeting. I would have been such a hypocrite had I gone with you and talked as you all did last night. I dared not do it."

Later on that same day, Marjorie told the mothers of her schoolchildren, and the children themselves, that she was not a London University graduate; that she had been deceiving them. Mr. Marsh also spoke to them, and assured them of his continued esteem for her, and confidence in her ability to teach his school.

The result was that the mothers heartily agreed with Mr. Marsh, and the children thought that if they had told a lie like that they would never have confessed it, so Miss Mowbray must be a very brave as well as a very good woman. But she would, perhaps, be more strict than ever about little untruths and tiny deceptions, and make them confess all such trifles openly, even as she herself had done. They would need to be more careful than ever.

Nettie's answer to her sister's letter was received on the following day.

Dear Marjorie,

I am sorry you have had such trouble on my account. When you had actually taught for so long in a false character, I don't see any sense in your confessing it and making such a bother about it. How foolish you were to make yourself so miserable about it. You might have grown ill, and then what would I have done. I couldn't have studied much longer for want of money, and I suppose I'd have been obliged to go to Market Hawley to nurse you, which would have interfered with my work.

Do be careful, dear. It would be a pity to spoil all my chances now. You always were rather fussy about trifles. I don't think I shall see you at Christmas. The eldest brother of my friend in Brighton has asked me to marry him. He is nice enough, but he is only an artist, and not a very lucky one either. However, when I go there at Christmas I will see about giving a decided answer one way or the other. You know him. What is your opinion?

"Poor Nettie," murmured Marjorie to herself, as she closed the letter with a half sigh; "I don't think she loves this man very much, or she would not talk so calmly about giving him an answer. He is not the man I would have chosen for her. He is not half good enough for her. But there is time enough yet to think about it. Yes, I suppose I do seem fussy to her, but I couldn't live a hypocrite any longer, even to serve her. She would scarcely comprehend what I have suffered, because she is so good and innocent herself. She would never have been tempted to act that lie."

Thus variously was Marjorie's confession received by her friends, and things went on much in the old way in the school and in the town. The colour came back to her cheeks and the light to her eyes, and she laughed and talked to Miss Macnab and to Lion and Tiger in a happy, light-hearted fashion good to see and hear. She scarcely seemed like the same woman.

Now and again she looked serious when she thought of Nettie's future, and she saved all she could in order that she might be able to send larger cheques to London. She was gentler and more patient with the schoolchildren, and she never punished them for a fault, except they were very hardened indeed. The first token of sorrow won from her an immediate pardon. No evildoer in the town heard a harsh word from her lips. Where she had formerly censured, she now tried to persuade lovingly. Surely had the joy of His salvation been restored to her, and she let others see it.

Miss Louisa Marsh and James Higgs still continued her enemies, and many a sharp, taunting word escaped their lips concerning her.

"Why, she has been a liar and a deceiver as long as we have known her," said Miss Louisa to her mother one evening, shortly after school reopened in the autumn. "I was never deceived by her appearance of goodness. I always thought she was too much like a Puritan to be all good."

"No, you never cared for her, lovey; but don't let your Pa hear you say that. He thinks no end of her. Indeed, for myself, I wonder at her courage. She certainly did deceive your Pa, but she confessed it, and she offered to give up the school. They weren't easy things to do."

"You are soft-hearted, Ma. She thought it was the best thing she could do to help herself, and she was quite right. Oh, she's a cunning dame. I wouldn't be surprised if it was all got up for effect."

"Well, I don't think it was, exactly. You saw how she lost all her good looks, and she seemed really ill. Now, since it's all come out, she's wonderfully improved. She's young again, and she has such a beautiful colour in her face."

"Well, I hope you haven't asked her to tea tonight to meet John Weston."

"Oh no, but if your Pa had remembered to tell me to do it, I'd have been obliged to ask her. I don't bear her any ill-will, lovey; I don't indeed, poor girl. And, Louisa, dear, I wish you didn't."

"Oh, I don't bear her any ill-will at all, I assure you," answered Louisa loftily. "I only pity her. She must feel very uncomfortable when she thinks of the part she has played. Me and Mary Simpson were just saying that today. I've written an article for the next week's Cleanliness, and I think I've given her a slight lesson in it. I hope some of those stupid workmen's wives will understand it and cease their sickening praises of her gentleness and sweetness, and such stuff. I know James Higgs takes the paper. Ah, good evening, Mr. Weston. We were just speaking of Miss Mowbray. I was pitying the poor thing for making such a spectacle of herself. Of course, after having deceived us all so shamefully, the least she could do was to confess it."

"I can't say I pity her, Miss Marsh," said John Weston, calmly, as he shook hands with his hostess.

"What? Not when she had to make such a humiliating confession? She goes about now with the knowledge that we are all aware she was acting a lie ever since she came amongst us."

"She was not obliged to make the confession," continued John Weston, still calmly. "I have thought of her courage with wonder and admiration. Now, let me put it to you, Miss Marsh. Could you or I have easily made such a confession? I don't believe I could."

"I hope I shall never be so wicked as to have such a thing to confess," answered Miss Louisa in indignation.

### Chapter 12

"Forgive Us Our Trespasses"

ALTHOUGH the majority of the good folks of Market Hawley received Marjorie with even increased cordiality and respect, she was at times conscious that there were two or three people in the town, perhaps more, who looked upon her with contempt since her confession. Miss Louisa Marsh was one of these, and lawyer Simpson's daughters, friends of Miss Louisa's, also regarded her with a scarcely concealed contempt.

She was not often brought into contact with these young ladies, but when they met her in the street they passed her with unseeing eyes. Mrs. Marsh seldom asked her to a "social gathering" now, for Louisa grew so indignant and contemptuous when her name was mentioned, that the good-natured woman was afraid she might be insulted by her wayward daughter.

Louisa Marsh had some influence in the town, being the only daughter of the richest man in it, and this influence she now used to try and injure Marjorie. She began to visit the cottages of the labouring men, and to give their wives money and little presents of vegetables and fruit, and even of bread and meat. She found that she had too many dresses in her wardrobe. These she also gave to the women, with a gaudy tinsel trinket or two for the elder daughters.

She asked them questions concerning the progress their children were making at the school, and openly expressed her sorrow at her father's infatuation in having a teacher for his school who had herself confessed that she was a liar. On some of the women her words took effect, but most of them retained their belief in Marjorie's goodness and skill. Indeed, the temporary sensation created by Marjorie's confession would have quite died out in a few weeks but for the strenuous efforts of Miss Marsh and a few of her friends.

Mr. Absalom Marsh had no idea of the intense dislike felt by his daughter for Marjorie. He would not have believed it possible that any Christian could harbour ill will in that way. Marjorie had deceived him, yes, but she had acknowledged her deception and had offered to make every reparation in her power. She led a good, useful and blameless life before them all: then why should they condemn her? How would they all look if they announced publicly the lies, and the dishonest acts, and the petty meannesses of which they were guilty at times?

Mr. Welsh, the young chapel minister, was an open admirer and friend of Miss Mowbray's, as was likewise John Weston, the rich owner of Westbrook, the new house, grounds and farm which he had just bought. But the fact that these two men were Marjorie's friends only added to Louisa Marsh's feeling of angry resentment.

At this time Miss Louisa persuaded her mother to give a number of large tea parties, to which all the town was invited in turn, all except Marjorie. It was close upon Christmas, so a good excuse was thus afforded for these entertainments. Miss Macnab was invited to one and another of them, but she refused to go when she found out that Marjorie was overlooked.

Miss Macnab's refusals were a source of annoyance and regret to Louisa, for the little spinster was a power in the town in her own way. She was rich, owned her pretty house, had no relatives, was a close friend of the wealthiest unmarried man in the neighbourhood, -- a man richer than Mr. Absalom Marsh himself -- and a woman who was feared by evildoers and hypocrites for her energetic tongue and fearless, straightforward speech.

Market Hawley usually deferred to her opinion, even when it laughed at her peculiarities. So, naturally Louisa was troubled when this desirable guest absolutely refused to put in an appearance at the entertainments. She knew the reason of the refusals, but that only made the matter worse. Miss Macnab did not say in so many words that she would not go because her friend was not invited, but Miss Marsh, and Mrs. Marsh also, were well aware of the fact.

Mr. Absalom Marsh was busy just then inventing a new kind of white soap which was to surpass anything of the sort ever used. He felt it as a duty he owed to the town to do something of the sort. He was its benefactor and the greatest man in it; therefore he must not repose idly on his laurels.

What with watching the progress of his invention, and writing explanatory articles concerning it in Cleanliness, he had scant leisure for playing the part of host. His friends would excuse him, he felt sure, when they knew upon what an important work he was engaged. If he succeeded, he meant to write articles about it to The Standard and The Times, those great organs of public opinion in London, and thus bring Market Hawley into great notice.

One morning a note came for Marjorie just before she started for the school. It was from Mrs. Newton, announcing that she could for the future dispense with Miss Mowbray's services as private instructor of her children. She did not think the children paid as much attention to their studies or as much respect to their teacher as formerly, and she thought it better to conclude the engagement. For her own part, she was sorry enough to be obliged to write such a note, but she did not think it right, for the children's sakes, to act otherwise

Marjorie was amazed, and very much troubled at receiving this epistle. It would hurt her in more ways than one to lose this tuition. The children had been good enough, and attentive enough also. She had never detected any disrespect in their manner. Mrs. Newton had not discovered all this at the end of the summer holidays, when Marjorie quite expected to have been dismissed. Why had she changed now?

After school, Marjorie went in to Miss Macnab, and showed her the letter. "I know I deserve it," she said humbly, "but when I was not dismissed before now, I thought Mrs. Newton was also going to allow me to atone for my ill-doing."

"My dear Marjorie, Mrs. Newton has been advised to do this thing," said Miss Macnab indignantly. "She has not the strength of mind to do it of herself. When Mr. Absalom Marsh and the rest of us supported you, she was quite contented with you. Mr. Absalom Marsh's daughter intends to drive you out of the town, I'm afraid, and she has used her influence with Mrs. Newton against you. The people don't know that Mr. Marsh is totally unaware of his daughter's conduct, but Mrs. Marsh knows of it, of course; and I must say I am very much disgusted with her weakness. Louisa makes her mother do good and ill at her pleasure, I do believe. If this sort of thing goes any further, I'll see if I can stop it.''

"Please, don't trouble about it," returned Marjorie, anxiously. "I deserve it, and I only wonder I have not been obliged to leave the town long ago."

"Fiddlesticks! It's Miss Louisa Marsh who ought to leave the town. She's a disgrace to her womanhood, to say nothing of her Christianity. I declare I'll go to Mrs. Newton this very afternoon, and show her the truth of the whole matter. You see, my dear, she was invited to those parties given by Mrs. Marsh, and then Miss Louisa had her to herself. I'm sorry now I refused all those invitations. I might have done you more service by going. I might have watched Miss Louisa and listened to her, and said my say also. But, dear me, dear me, I'm awfully obstinate and blind sometimes! I can't see anything beyond my own four walls. I'll know better another time, I hope."

"But I wouldn't like Mrs. Newton to receive me back against her will."

"You want the money, and it's time we stopped all this wicked, uncharitable work," returned Miss Macnab, solemnly. "It has been going on for a long time now, but I thought it would never come to anything. Mr. Absalom Marsh is as simple and unsuspicious as a baby, with all his fine talk and imaginary wisdom. He would not suspect his daughter of such behaviour, because he believes everything belonging to him to be perfect. When I open his eyes, he will receive a severe blow, I'm afraid. His pride will be so lowered."

"Don't say anything to him," entreated Marjorie. "Where would be the use of bringing unhappiness into his house? I know he is very proud of his daughter: why trouble him? And, after all, what has she done amiss? Many good Christians would treat me as she is doing. Few like to associate with a liar."

"Really, Marjorie, you make me angry with you. What sort of Christians did you live amongst before you came to Market Hawley? No good person who claimed to be a Christian would act as she is doing. Why, they daren't say their prayers if they did. How could they pray for forgiveness? 'Forgive us our trespasses,' indeed! No, no, hypocrites are not Christians. There is no middle path."

Marjorie could not talk any more on the subject just then, for she had a letter to write to Nettie. When she had written it she went out to post it, intending at the same time to walk a little distance along the road, for her head ached and she felt rather low-spirited. Miss Macnab came to her door as she passed it, asked her which way she was going, and said she and Lion would follow her in a few minutes.

Having posted her letter, Marjorie walked slowly onwards. It was not a very pleasant evening. The sun had set, and there was a sort of grey light, which was not darkness and yet was not light. The road was wet from recent rain, and the wind was beginning to rise steadily. Not a very inviting evening for a walk, certainly, but Marjorie did not give much heed to physical discomfort. She was thinking how Nettie would miss the money from Mrs. Newton's tuition, and she was wondering what she would do if she really was obliged to leave Market Hawley.

She might go back to London, or she might try another small town, but where could she ever again be so comfortable as she was here? She would be so lonely in another place. Miss Macnab was a true friend, and most of the people had been kind to her. She shrank from beginning anew among strangers.

If she failed here altogether, Nettie would blame her for it, and no wonder. She had explained all the circumstances to her, but that could not alter the fact, or make the unpleasant truth any the pleasanter. Perhaps they would spend their Christmas together in London, after all; for if Mr. Absalom Marsh took the school from her, she could not remain more than a day after in Market Hawley.

"Ah, Miss Mowbray, and so you're thinkin' it's time you was sorry for takin' my situation from me! I agrees with you, Miss. How'll you like to have your situations took from you? They're goin' fast, my dear. And so you cheated us all, did you? I said you wasn't fit to teach my innocent child, and I was right. None o' your palaverin' for me. Miss Marsh's the one for my money. That reminds me, you owe me a lot o' money. All the time you was teachin' my child, we was payin' you, and as Miss Marsh says, it was a waste o' our hard-earned coins, 'cause you couldn't teach her nothin'. You didn't know a thing yourself, and you wasn't nothin' but a cheater."

The speaker, James Higgs, advanced nearer to the astonished Marjorie so that she could not escape from him. He had seen her passing along the road while he himself was concealed behind a tree, and he had followed her some distance until he thought he would be safe from interruption; then he stopped her.

"Now, then," he continued, speaking in a low, threatening tone, "hand me over all the money you've got in your pocket, by way o' return for all we've spent on that child's schoolin'! Do you hear? Don't be long about it, neither. There's no one as'll take your part this time, 'cause all the towns again' you. I'll give you while I'm havin' a sup o' this stuff to empty your pockets; then if 'tisn't done, I'll empty 'em myself. I mean to get drunk real bad on your money tonight. I'm a bit on the road now."

He raised a black bottle to his lips as he concluded, and swallowed a portion of its fiery contents, watching Marjorie all the while.

"I have no money with me," she said indignantly, as she in part recovered from her fright. "You are a coward to attack a woman. Go on your way and let me pass. I will call out for assistance."

"So you may, when I've emptied your pockets," he said, making a staggering movement forward and grasping her dress. She cried out sharply, and then the road seemed to swim round and round her.

### Chapter 13

Miss Louisa's Enmity Made Known

"COURAGE, Marjorie, I am coming. I'll soon settle that cowardly creature!"

Higgs turned half stupidly round at the sound of those words, and unloosed his hold of Marjorie's dress. Then he felt himself clasped tightly round the knees. The next moment he was lying in the mud. Who had knocked him down? Not a man, for there was no man near; he could see that, drunk as he was. Not that dog Lion; there was no dog standing over him, with gleaming teeth ready to rend him. But who was standing over him? Why, little Miss Macnab, a huge stone held firmly in her hands.

"Now, then, if you attempt to move from that, I'll drop this stone on your head. That will quiet you, I expect." Her eyes flashed such angry scorn over him that he believed he felt their fire scorch him.

"How dare you come attacking a good, gentle woman like Miss Mowbray, you great drunken coward! You're afraid to fight men, and you'd be afraid to fight me; but you annoy her because you know she won't even complain of your conduct. Bah! I waste time talking to a drunken thing like you. If I had a good stick, I'd beat you so that you'd remember it for many a day. Stir if you dare. You know I'm afraid of no man. I've no nice feeling of charity or humanity for such as you. Marjorie, dear, get away home. Don't mind me. I'll wait till someone comes, and I'll have this creature locked up. Why, Marjorie, have you fainted? Dear, dear, what shall I do? Would you stir, you wretch? I'll drop this stone on you, surely."

She looked as if she would do so on the slightest provocation, or indeed without any provocation at all. Her whole frame was quivering with indignation. The man had sense enough to see that it was best to lie still. He knew her well, as did many wife-beating factory men to their cost. She had once emptied a large pot of boiling water over a cobbler who had beaten his wife almost to death. That man did not "take the law o' her," as he threatened to do when his terrible wounds had healed, and he let his wife alone for many a day afterwards.

"If Lion were only here. Marjorie, can't you get up, dear. If I go to your assistance I must disable this wretch here. Why did I send Lion on that errand? Ah, here he is. Lion, Lion, good fellow, come on quickly."

The Newfoundland came racing on at a gallop, and reached his mistress' side panting for breath. When he perceived the man lying on the road, he looked down on him and uttered a growl.

"Yes, Lion, don't let him move from there till I tell you. What a relief!" And the little spinster dropped the huge stone, the weight of which had nearly dislocated her wrists.

"Miss Macnab and Miss Mowbray!" exclaimed the astonished voice of Mr. Absalom Marsh, as that important individual suddenly appeared round the corner of the road, driving towards the town. "Why, what is the matter here?"

"Oh, Mr. Marsh, I am so glad to see you. Get down and lift Marjorie into your dogcart, and take her to my house quickly. I'll soon be after you, And send a policeman out to lock up this creature. Yes, that's Higgs. He attacked her here, and I arrived barely in time to save her."

Mr. Marsh jumped down and raised Marjorie in his arms, placing her in the vacant seat in the dogcart. She opened her eyes as the movement roused her,

"Oh, I am well now, thank you," she said, smilingly. "I can walk home. It is Miss Macnab who ought to be here. I'm sure she must be hurt."

"Not I, my dear. I'm all right, and somewhat cooler too," and Miss Macnab laughed heartily. "Lion will watch the man until the policeman arrives. I declare, the wretch has fallen into a drunken sleep. Well, he must be very drunk. We can leave him here safely with Lion."

Full of indignation, Mr. Marsh turned and looked down at Higgs; then some of the anger died out of his eyes.

"I believe he has not many more days to live. Drink is killing him."

Miss Macnab hurried home after the dogcart. She was in haste to get her dress off, the sleeve of it had come into such close contact with the drunken man's garments.

"Pah, dirty creature! I can never wear the dress again," she muttered, as she reached her own home.

Marjorie was sitting at the great blazing fire in the parlour, waiting for her, but she did not stop to speak to her. She ran upstairs to her bedroom and changed her dress; then she tied up the discarded garment, and directed her maid to give it to some poor body. That done, she entered the parlour and sat down placidly opposite Marjorie, and began to pour out tea.

"How did you knock him down?" asked Marjorie, after a few minutes' quiet inspection of her hostess. "Did Lion do it?"

Miss Macnab laughed. "No, Lion was not with me at the first. I just rushed at him, clasped him closely round the knees, and threw him backwards. You must recollect he was drunk at the time, and taken unawares. I always work myself up to such a pitch of indignation when I come upon any cowardly cruelty, that I often wonder I don't do more real harm to the wicked men. Generally speaking, my tongue is weapon enough, but sometimes I am obliged to resort to physical force, and I have always been victorious. Oh, you may laugh, but I have devices which make up for my lack of height and strength. I consider I have done a good evening's work," she continued complacently, as she leaned back in her comfortable armchair and sipped her tea.

Marjorie looked at the frail old lady in amazement, but said nothing.

"Now we will have an end of Miss Louisa Marsh's persecution, and Mrs. Newton will be writing to beg you to continue teaching her children," Miss Macnab continued. "I shall make everything plain to Mr. Absalom Marsh. You needn't shake your head, my dear Marjorie. Are you not afraid to oppose such a formidable personage as Maria Macnab? Ah, here is Lion. Of course that man is safe in custody. Lion never only half does his work. Well, good fellow, do you want your supper?"

The Newfoundland walked over and laid his head in the old lady's lap. She looked down lovingly into his great eyes, which beamed with affectionate intelligence.

"Lion, come here," said Marjorie softly. He turned and crossed the hearthrug, carefully avoiding stepping on Tiger who was stretched at full length in the middle of it. She took his head in her hands and kissed him between his eyes. He moved his tail from side to side slowly, in an appreciative fashion. Evidently he approved of Miss Mowbray's manner of saying "thank you." Then he lay down on the rug, somewhat disturbing Tiger as he did so, who resented this intrusion on his domain by laying his head on the Newfoundland's back and going off placidly to sleep again.

The next day the man Higgs died from the effects of all the intoxicating liquor he had been drinking for months back. Before he died he sent for Mr. Marsh, and told him that Miss Marsh's half-crown and angry words concerning Marjorie had been the beginning of the persecution against her.

He said he had been incited to continue to annoy her in the hope of receiving further half-crowns, and also because Miss Marsh's words had taken a strong hold of his brain. He was sorry for his ill doing, and he hoped Mr. Marsh would not take the school from Miss Mowbray, as had been rumoured in the town. Mrs. Newton had followed Miss Louisa's advice and dismissed Miss Mowbray, but he hoped the master would let her keep the school.

Mr. Absalom Marsh was utterly astounded at the revelations of Higgs. He went away from the man's bedside like one in a hideous nightmare. Could it be possible that a Marsh was capable of acting so basely? Was it really his daughter, his only and beloved child, who had displayed such uncharitableness, such an unchristian spirit? Was it really Louisa who had indulged in such absolute and active evil doing? He could scarcely believe it. But a dying man had said so, and the man's wife, a good, truthful woman, had confirmed his words.

All the town looked up to the Marsh family, and he, Mr. Absalom Marsh, had complacently accepted the homage. Was he not always thinking of them, and working to improve their mental and moral condition? He had endeavoured to live blamelessly before all men. Now, he could never hold up his head again.

He strode into his parlour where his wife and daughter were sitting busily at work, and closed the door noisily behind him. They looked up quickly, startled at the noise. When Mrs. Marsh saw her husband's face she cried out, "Absalom, are you ill? What is the matter, dear?"

"Matter?" he answered in a low voice. "Matter enough! We are disgraced for ever in the eyes of Market Hawley, and this wretched girl, our daughter, is the cause of it. Ah, you may well look ashamed and stricken, my girl! How could you ever conceive such base plans? I have just heard from the dying lips of Higgs all about your persecution of Miss Mowbray. To think that such a scheme should have the sanction of my name! We must leave Market Hawley, I repeat. I can never face my neighbours again. Go to your room, wretched girl, and let me not see you for many a day. I don't think I shall ever want to see you again."

He sat down and laid his head on the table, while a groan of distress and anguish escaped his lips. His daughter, abashed and frightened, stole from the room, but Mrs. Marsh stood beside him and timidly touched his head with her hand.

"I am as much to blame as Louisa, for I unthinkingly aided her by giving those parties. I thought it was just a girlish envy that made her not like Miss Mowbray. I believe Louisa began in that way, until her dislike got beyond her control. Oh, Absalom dear, forgive us both."

"I have prided myself on our integrity and uprightness. I have talked about godliness. My own child makes me out a hypocrite. I must go down this minute and apologize to Miss Mowbray, and try and explain to her how sorry I am."

"May I go with you, dear?" pleaded his wife, tearfully. "I am very grieved about my share in the matter; indeed I am."

He kissed her affectionately. "Come, then, let us go," he answered.

Marjorie was dismayed when Mr. Absalom Marsh announced the object of their visit.

"You have always been my benefactor since first I came to the town," she said, warmly and sincerely. "Don't apologize to me for anything. As to Miss Marsh -- as she has so hurt you, I must plead to you for her forgiveness. It was not her fault that she couldn't like me. We do not like at will."

Mrs. Marsh hugged her with fervour for such words, but Mr. Marsh went home more incensed than ever against his daughter.

When a few days had passed, and his mood did not change, Mrs. Marsh sent Louisa away on a visit to friends in another town, trusting to time and absence to soften her father's anger against her,

From the death of Higgs until Christmas Eve, the days passed quietly for Marjorie. On Christmas Eve Nettie came to Market Hawley, deciding to spend a week of the holidays with her sister. Miss Macnab invited them both to eat their Christmas dinner with her, and Marjorie gladly accepted the invitation.

On the evening of Christmas Day, there was a service in the Chapel. Marjorie went to it alone, Miss Macnab remaining with Nettie who caught a cold in travelling down from London. When Marjorie returned, after an hour's absence, Nettie stared at her.

"Is it so very cold out of doors? You look so ghastly."

"For all the world it's as if she has seen the Wanderer," spoke Miss Macnab, laughingly.

"I have seen her," answered Marjorie quietly, with trembling lips.

### Chapter 14

MARJORIE'S STORY

"WHO is the Wanderer?" queried Nettie, in much curiosity. She could not remember ever to have seen such a look on her sister's face as she saw then.

"She is our mystery," answered Miss Macnab, rising and forcing Marjorie to sit down. "Why, dear, what has happened to you?"

"As I said, I saw the little old woman you call the Wanderer. She was standing outside the Chapel door with John Weston, and she spoke to me. She said, 'Marjorie,' but I did not wait to answer her."

"She called you Marjorie?" exclaimed both Miss Macnab and Nettie at once.

"Yes, she called me Marjorie. She had an eager, entreating look in her eyes, and her face is old and care-worn; but I turned away from her. Why should I heed her now? She had no pity fifteen years ago." Marjorie spoke in a strange, mechanical fashion, as if scarce knowing what she was saying.

"I am sure you are ill, dear," said Miss Macnab soothingly. "You have not quite recovered from yesterday's headache."

"Oh no, I am not ill, but it gave me a shock to see her again. I had been trying to forget all about her, but she won't let me. I don't want to have anything to do with her. I have not interfered with her. Why does she trouble me?"

"What has she to do with you?" said Nettie, impatiently. "Tell us all about it quickly. How is it that you have a secret which I know nothing about?"

"Yes, it does concern you. I suppose I ought to have told you long ago, but there was no use in telling you, and the story might have injured your progress in your art."

"I declare, one would think I was a baby, to hear you speak," said Nettie, with a sudden angry petulance. "Tell me now, at any rate."

"Gently, Miss Nettie," spoke Miss Macnab, almost reprovingly. "You must not trouble your sister until she is ready to speak. You may be sure that whatever she has done, was done for your good, seeing she has no other thought."

"I don't know," said Marjorie, wearily. "I have wondered if I did well in taking Nettie away. She was but an infant. Yes, I will tell you about it all. Don't go away, Miss Macnab. It must be no longer a secret. You told me something of the mystery of Ashton Manor House, but I can tell you the true story. Years ago, I lived there with my father and mother. I loved my mother, but knew very little about my father. One day, Nettie was born, but my mother died giving birth. Within six months of her death, my father married the housekeeper, a woman I had never liked. She had lived with us six years, and mother had liked her well enough, but the woman was harsh, cunning, and very fond of money.

"Well, our father died six months after his second marriage. It was found that he had made a new will, leaving everything to his second wife, to do as she wished with. There was no provision made for us, except that our stepmother was to educate us, and always give us a home in the Manor House. Even after her death, the money was not to come to us if she did not make a will in our favour. She said she would leave it all to some hospital, and she always treated me most unkindly.

"She was good enough to Nettie, but she was only a baby, and had never angered her. Long ago, when she came to us as housekeeper, I had found her out in some dishonesty, and told my mother about it. My mother reproved her, but forgave her. She never forgot that act of mine, and I suppose she determined to punish me for it.

"One night, when Nettie was about three years old, the woman had been most cruel to me. I felt I could bear it no longer. I resolved to leave the Manor House, and never return to it. So I took Nettie, and went away without telling anyone of my intention. I had two hundred pounds of my own, which had been a gift to me from my dead grandmother. This I brought with me, and a small bag with clothes. I went first to two ladies with whom I had been at school in my mother's lifetime. They helped me with their advice, and after a while, I got on very well with teaching. I had promised my mother to be a mother to Nettie, and I have tried to be so.

"I never heard of my stepmother from that night, more than fifteen years ago, until I came here to teach Mrs. Newton's children. You remember, Miss Macnab, you told me about the Manor House mystery, and how Mrs. Ashton was like the Wanderer. I was surprised to find that she still lived, but I trusted that time had changed me beyond her recognition, and I was certain she could not possibly know Nettie. Then, also, you told me she was always moving about, so I determined to remain and retain my good tuitions. If she ever came to the Manor House while I was in Market Hawley, I resolved to keep indoors until she departed again, so that there might be no chance of a recognition.

"But one night I saw her standing at the Manor House gate. I knew her at once, in spite of her shrivelled appearance, but she could not have remembered me. Although she called out to me to stop, she made no enquiries in the town about me, that I ever heard. The night was a dark one, and very likely she did not see me distinctly.

"Tonight, leaving the Chapel, I saw her once again. She was standing at the door talking to John Weston. She looked me full in the face, and cried out, 'Marjorie!' I turned my back on her, and walked away quietly. I didn't run, for fear of attracting attention. When she called my name, John Weston put his hand on her arm, as if to prevent her following me. He was her agent, you know, before he bought Westbrook. But she knows I am here now. He will have told her all about me."

Marjorie ceased speaking, and put her hand to her head in a dazed fashion. Her hearers were silent for a minute also, recovering from the astonishment her words caused.

"How is it that no one in the town recognized you, when you had lived so near it?" asked Miss Macnab at length.

"I don't think I ever walked in the town. I never left our own grounds except to go to school, and then my mother and I drove in a covered car. My father was very odd in many respects. After his death I used to attend to Nettie all day long, and then I never by any chance left the grounds. I did not go to church or chapel, except when I was at school. Mother used to go sometimes alone, but father never went."

"I don't think you were quite right in rushing off that way all those years ago," said Nettie. "If we had stayed, our stepmother might have relented and left us our father's money after all. I was only a small child. I had never annoyed her. I think you might have left me behind."

"She would never have left you the money," said Marjorie gently. "She hated you too, because she hated mother."

"Who knows? And we really own all the Manor House property, and I have been working hard for my living all this long time."

"You mean Marjorie has been working hard to support you, so that you might learn painting," put in Miss Macnab sharply.

"You kept this secret from me all these years, as if I had no right to know it," continued Nettie, unheeding Miss Macnab. "You ought to have left me behind, Marjorie. You ought indeed. I was little more than a baby, and she would have been obliged to take care of me."

"I was afraid to leave you, Nettie. She hated us so much that she might have done you some harm, and then how could I have met our mother in heaven? Have I not been a good sister to you?" Marjorie knelt down by Nettie's side, and put her arms round her coaxingly. "I have tried to fill our mother's place. Kiss me, Nettie, and say I have done my best."

Nettie half reluctantly gave the kiss, while a frown rested on her fair face. "At any rate you might have stopped and spoken to her tonight. Perhaps she meant to ask you to make friends with her. Now, you have lost the opportunity."

A shadow of pain crossed Marjorie's face.

"Really, Miss Nettie, I must ask you not to talk such selfish rubbish," said Miss Macnab, in real indignation. "Marjorie had no other course to pursue, and she did everything just right. She was wrong about you in one thing, though. She ought to have let you earn your own living when you were able to do it. I don't believe in idleness and luxury at the expense of another. It is apt to spoil one's character. It has done yours no good, I can see."

Nettie was totally unaccustomed to reproof, and she might have replied angrily to Miss Macnab, but she was rather afraid of the little spinster's tongue; so she kept a sulky silence, and looked now and again at Marjorie's downcast face.

"Now, Marjorie, don't trouble yourself anymore about the matter. Your stepmother recognized you, you say, so if she wants you she can send for you by John Weston. And if she does send for you, act just as you think fit. What a white face, my dear. You must go and have a rest in bed. The school business is nothing to this. I can't have you ill again, because with all this upset you surely will be if you don't take care. You shall stay here, and Miss Nettie can go into your lodgings."

"Then I suppose Mowbray is not our real name," said Nettie, as she rose to put on her jacket and hat. She had no desire to remain for the night with Miss Macnab.

"Yes, it is," answered Marjorie, rising also. "Just before you were born our father, whose name was John Mowbray, became heir to a large sum of money on condition that he assumed the name of Ashton, his mother's family name. This, of course, he did, but I had such a dislike to Mrs. Ashton, our stepmother, that I retained our old name when I fled from the Manor House, rather than be known by the one she bore."

"Evidently the Market Hawley folk were ignorant of the real story of the Manor House mystery, for your father was always spoken of as John Ashton."

"Very likely," returned Marjorie. "But we must say goodnight, Miss Macnab. I'm afraid I have spoiled your Christmas evening by my strange story."

"Certainly not. I am very much interested and excited over it. But, you are not going, Marjorie?"

"Yes, I must. Nettie will be lonely in there, and besides, there is no reason why I should stay with you and trouble you to prepare a bedroom for me."

"Why, here is John Weston!" exclaimed the little spinster eagerly, as she turned to the young man who had just opened the parlour door and entered. Marjorie quickly sank down upon the nearest chair, and looked at him appealingly. He went to her and took her hand.

"She has sent me to implore that you will come to her," he said, in answer to that look. "She has told me her story. She is very repentant, Marjorie, dear. You cannot refuse to hear what she has to say. She has been repenting for more than fifteen years, and she is dying now. Won't you come to her? Whether you come or not, all the money and property is yours and your sister's. She made a will leaving it all to you."

"I don't want it," answered Marjorie slowly.

"Go, Marjorie, and don't be so unrelenting," said Nettie quickly. "May I not come also?"

"Yes, of course. You have as much right to go as I have," returned Marjorie sadly.

She rose then, and Miss Macnab wrapped her up warmly for the cold drive, kissing her the while, and whispering softly, "Forgive us our trespasses. May all good influences from our Lord in Heaven be with you, and about you, dear."

John Weston drove the sisters rapidly along the dark, muddy road. It was not long until the vehicle passed through the iron gate, between the black goats' heads, and the yellow light from the lamps illuminated the entrance way. There was no old woman standing there now, leaning on her stick and gazing up and down the road with eager, expectant gaze. She had concluded her quest. She had at last been successful, after wandering to and fro for so many years. Yes, she might perhaps rest now, for she was sitting in her armchair waiting for death.

When Marjorie entered the room the worn hands trembled, and the dim eyes were raised for a moment.

"Did you come to me, Marjorie, after all? I robbed your mother many times. I stole your inheritance from you. I spoiled your life when you should have just been entering happily upon it. Can you say you forgive me?"

### Chapter 15

(Last Chapter)

The End Mystery

THE broken, gasping sentences ceased. The old woman sank back again upon her pillows, but her trembling hand was stretched out still, as if in mute appeal. Marjorie knelt by the side of the chair, and clasped that trembling hand closely in her own.

"I do forgive you, fully and freely," she answered gently, and then she leaned over and kissed the brow of her father's wife -- of the woman who had driven her out from her home, and treated her so cruelly years ago.

There was silence in the room for a minute, then the low quavering voice began again. "When you had gone, Marjorie, and taken the child, your sister, with you, I was startled. I did not think you would really run away. I wanted you to stay, so that I might taunt you day by day and break your spirit. I never meant to leave you or your sister a penny of your father's money. I wanted to hold it as a threat over your head, that in the hope of sometime obtaining it for yourself and Nettie you would submit to my cruelty.

When you fled, all my plans were overthrown. My pleasure was taken from me. I could not now watch your daily anguish, and finally crown it all by leaving your money to some institution. True, I could still leave the money as I wished, but half the pleasure was gone when I could not witness your defeat. I meant to have given it all away during my lifetime, and before your eyes, retaining the Manor House only until my death. I knew you would not marry or try to help yourself in any way until Nettie was grown up. Her mother had left her to you, and such was your disposition.

"But when you fled I was totally dismayed. And you had taken the child also, so that I had no rod to hold over you. The day after you had gone, I went into the town and made inquiries about you, but you had not been seen there. On my way home I was stopped by a crowd surrounding a street preacher. Before I could get the horse through the people, some words from the preacher fell upon my ears; words that in one moment seemed to show me clearly the wickedness, the enormous wickedness, of my conduct to you.

"I hastened home, and sat down in the dining room and thought it all out. Then I fell upon my knees and tried to pray for forgiveness. Ever since then, I have been searching for you. Oh, I have indeed repented."

Hot tears flowed slowly down the old woman's withered cheeks, and her breath came and went in hurried, fitful gasps.

"Say no more," said Marjorie, softly. "You will only distress yourself needlessly. Let it all be forgotten now."

"Nay, I cannot hurt myself much, and the end will soon be. I am not so afraid to die now, for you have forgiven me. I had a vague hope that if I could find you and atone in part for what I had done, you would forgive me. But I never could discover anything about you.

"I put advertisements into the papers, and I travelled great distances following some false clue. I didn't dare obtain the help of the police, for I was afraid they would put me into prison for ill-treating you, and then I should never find you. You know I was an ignorant woman, and understood nothing of law. Your father's will in my favour was correct; that was all I was certain about. Never have I had a moment's peace since you fled. Oh, I have surely atoned."

"I did not see any of your advertisements," faltered Marjorie. "If I had, I might have returned for Nettie's sake. I thought you would have been only too glad to get rid of us. I heard nothing more of you until I came here. Then I heard that it was supposed you were always searching for us, but I scarcely gave the story a thought. I hoped it was not true, for why should you want us back again in the Manor House when you had hated us so? I had dropped you out of my life. That is why I never saw your advertisements, and gave no heed to the stories in Market Hawley about your wanderings."

"Ah no, how should you believe them, indeed? One night, the last time I was here, I saw someone I took to be you, standing in the road looking at me. I called you, but you disappeared. The next morning I had a letter saying that it was more than likely you were in a town in Scotland, named Dunoon. The letter was from a friend, so I hurried away, and forgot all about the vision I had seen on the road. But at last I have found you, and you have forgiven me."

The old lady paused and stared across the room. "Is that Nettie standing there? Come here and let me look at you. Yes, you are like your father. Marjorie takes after her mother. Ah well, the end is near now, and I am so tired of my wanderings. I used to picture you, Marjorie, a young girl, trying to support yourself and your baby sister, while I had your money and your home. It was your leaving your home and taking the child that awakened any good in me. It startled me out of my wickedness, and that preacher's words showed me my sin in the sight of God. Perhaps I will now die in peace. I have prayed for forgiveness, and I have tried to atone. John Weston has told you that your father's home and money are now yours and your sister's. He is a good man, Marjorie. He deserves your love."

Here the faint, weak utterances ceased; the heavy lids drooped over the dim eyes, into which the shadow of death was already creeping.

Marjorie sent Nettie away to sleep, and she herself, with John Weston, remained in the room. In the grey dawn of the morning the old woman passed peacefully away; her wanderings for ever over, her restless, unquiet heart quiet and at rest at last.

There was no longer the Manor House mystery to form an interesting topic of conversation in Market Hawley when ordinary subjects failed, but the explanation of the mystery was astonishing enough to excite the good folk for many a day afterward. To think that Mr. Absalom Marsh's schoolmistress should be a rich heiress, almost as great a person as Mr. Marsh himself! Well, she deserved her prosperity. She was a good woman. She had worked to support that pretty sister of hers, and she had tried to do well by the school, and by the poor people of Market Hawley. Yes, and no doubt she would still serve Market Hawley, for she would now live in the Manor House and give entertainments, and employ labour, and spend her money in the town.

Mr. Marsh would have to get a new teacher for his school, and she might not be so kind and successful as Miss Mowbray was. Never mind. All's well that ends well. There would be a tenant at last in the Manor House.

So talked the people, much to the amusement of Miss Macnab. She knew a little more than they did. For instance, Marjorie had promised to marry John Weston, and go and live with him at Westbrook. Nettie, when she married her artist friend, was to have the Manor House and the greatest part of old John Ashton's money. Marjorie had no need of money or lands, for her husband had enough; and besides, by giving Nettie almost all the money and all the property, she hoped to make up for keeping it from her so long.

Miss Macnab remarked that that was an absurd idea, for Mrs. Ashton had distinctly said she would never have given either Marjorie or Nettie a penny of their father's money had not Marjorie fled from her home and taken her sister with her. But Marjorie persisted that her stepmother might have relented when Nettie grew to be a pretty, engaging child, so there must be some compensation made to her for her possible loss.

Nettie herself had no objection to the arrangement, only she found the Manor House rather quiet and dull after London and Brighton. True, she filled it with her London friends, and by-and-by she had her husband with her, but somehow the place was not so cheerful, and not nearly so pretty as Westbrook.

Some time after the death of Mrs. Ashton, Marjorie gave a large Harvest Home party in Westbrook to a number of her Market Hawley friends. Miss Macnab was staying at Westbrook at the time. She often stayed with Marjorie and John Weston, and she was always accompanied by Lion. She remarked more than once to Mr. Absalom Marsh and others after Marjorie's marriage, that the happiness of Mr. and Mrs. Weston tempted her to believe that comfort and peace might be compatible with the marriage state, after all. And she sometimes asked Marjorie, with a quiet smile, if she envied her still, and if she thought that the life of an unmarried woman was happier than that of a married one. She and Lion stood now on the terrace in front of the house, talking to Marjorie and John, and awaiting with them the arrival of their guests for the Harvest Home.

"Is Miss Louisa coming with her father and mother tonight?" she asked of Marjorie, as she looked out with a pleasant smile over the smooth green, tree-shaded lawn, and the many beds of flowers still bright with some lingering summer blossoms.

"Yes, she accepted our invitation at once. I believe she has forgotten her dislike to me."

"I should think she has, indeed," returned the little spinster, almost indignantly.

"Well, I'm glad she is coming, and that she and her good father are friends again," said Marjorie, placidly. "She writes the lighter portion of Cleanliness for him as usual, and I think he has quite forgiven her for the pain she caused him."

"Did you hear that Mr. Absalom Marsh received some highly commendatory letters from London concerning that wonderful new soap he made some time ago?" asked John Weston as he fastened a large bunch of red flowers in the breast of his wife's dress, and then drew her hand through his arm.

"No; tell us of it," said she, smilingly.

"Well, he wrote to The Times and to The Standard about it, and he gave both papers a sketch of Market Hawley and its working people. They were great letters as to length and words, as befitted the editor of Cleanliness, and he, of course, requested a favourable notice in their columns of the soap and the paper. He obtained what he desired, and what was more to the point still, two London houses sent large orders for the soap. He is jubilant over his success."

"He well deserves it," answered Marjorie quickly, and Miss Macnab heartily agreed with her.

"You can tell him so, then, for here he comes, with his wife and daughter."

THE END

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## Christian Non-fiction

### Four short books of help in the Christian life:

So, What Is a Christian? An introduction to a personal faith. Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9927642-2-7, eBook ISBN: 978-0-9933941-2-6

Starting Out -- help for new Christians of all ages. Paperback ISBN 978-1-4839-622-0-7, eBook ISBN: 978-0-9933941-0-2

Help! -- Explores some problems we can encounter with our faith. Paperback ISBN 978-0-9927642-2-7, eBook ISBN: 978-0-9933941-1-9

Running Through the Bible -- a simple understanding of what's in the Bible -- Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9927642-6-5, eBook ISBN: 978-0-9933941-3-3

### Be Still

Bible Words of Peace and Comfort

Chris Wright

There may come a time in our lives when we want to concentrate on God's many promises of peace and comfort. The Bible readings in this book are for people who need to know what it means to be held securely in the Lord's loving arms.

Rather than selecting single verses here and there, each reading in this book is a run of several verses. This gives a much better picture of the whole passage in which a favourite verse may be found.

As well as being for personal use, these readings are intended for sharing with anyone in special need, to help them draw comfort from the reading and prayer for that date. Bible reading and prayer are the two most important ways of getting to know and trust Jesus Christ, our Lord and Saviour.

The reference to the verses for the day are given, for you to look up and read in your preferred Bible translation.

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9933941-4-0

Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9932760-7-1

116 pages 5x7.8 inches

A Previously Unpublished Book

### The Simplicity of the Incarnation

J Stafford Wright

Foreword by J I Packer

"I believe in ... Jesus Christ ... born of the Virgin Mary." A beautiful stained glass image, or a medical reality? This is the choice facing Christians today. Can we truly believe that two thousand years ago a young woman, a virgin named Mary, gave birth to the Son of God? The answer is simple: we can.

The author says, "In these days many Christians want some sensible assurance that their faith makes sense, and in this book I want to show that it does."

In this uplifting book from a previously unpublished and recently discovered manuscript, J Stafford Wright investigates the reality of the incarnation, looks at the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus, and helps the reader understand more of the Trinity and the certainty of eternal life in heaven.

This book was written shortly before the author's death in 1985. The Simplicity of the Incarnation is published for the first time, unedited, from his final draft.

eBook ISBN 13: 978-0-9932760-5-7

Paperback ISBN: 9-780-9525-9563-2

160 pages 5.25 x 8 inches

Available from bookstores and major internet sellers

### Bible People Real People

An Unforgettable A-Z of Who is Who in the Bible

J Stafford Wright

In a fascinating look at real people, J Stafford Wright shows his love and scholarly knowledge of the Bible as he brings the characters from its pages to life in a memorable way.

Read this book through from A to Z, like any other title

Dip in and discover who was who in personal Bible study

Check the names when preparing a talk or sermon

The good, the bad, the beautiful and the ugly – no one is spared. This is a book for everyone who wants to get to grips with the reality that is in the pages of the Bible, the Word of God.

With the names arranged in alphabetical order, the Old and New Testament characters are clearly identified so that the reader is able to explore either the Old or New Testament people on the first reading, and the other Testament on the second.

Those wanting to become more familiar with the Bible will find this is a great introduction to the people inhabiting the best selling book in the world, and those who can quote chapter and verse will find everyone suddenly becomes much more real – because these people are real. This is a book to keep handy and refer to frequently while reading the Bible.

"For students of my generation the name Stafford Wright was associated with the spiritual giants of his generation. Scholarship and integrity were the hallmarks of his biblical teaching. He taught us the faith and inspired our discipleship of Christ. To God be the Glory." The Rt. Rev. James Jones, Bishop of Liverpool

This is a lively, well-informed study of some great Bible characters. Professor Gordon Wenham MA PhD. Tutor in Old Testament at Trinity College Bristol and Emeritus Professor of Old Testament at the University of Gloucestershire.

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9932760-7-1

Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9525956-5-6

314 pages 6x9 inches

Note: This book is not available in all eBook formats

### Christians and the Supernatural

J Stafford Wright

There is an increasing interest and fascination in the paranormal today. To counteract this, it is important for Christians to have a good understanding of how God sometimes acts in mysterious ways, and be able to recognize how he can use our untapped gifts and abilities in his service. We also need to understand how the enemy can tempt us to misuse these gifts and abilities, just as Jesus was tempted in the wilderness.

In this single volume of his two previously published books on the occult and the supernatural (Understanding the Supernatural and Our Mysterious God) J Stafford Wright examines some of the mysterious events we find in the Bible and in our own lives. Far from dismissing the recorded biblical miracles as folk tales, he is convinced that they happened in the way described, and explains why we can accept them as credible.

The writer says: When God the Holy Spirit dwells within the human spirit, he uses the mental and physical abilities which make up a total human being . . . The whole purpose of this book is to show that the Bible does make sense.

And this warning: The Bible, claiming to speak as the revelation of God, and knowing man's weakness for substitute religious experiences, bans those avenues into the occult that at the very least are blind alleys that obscure the way to God, and at worst are roads to destruction.

eBook ISBN 13: 978-0-9932760-4-0

Paperback ISBN 13: 9-780-9525-9564-9

222 pages 5.25 x 8 inches

Available from bookstores and major internet sellers

### Howell Harris

His Own Story

Foreword by J. Stafford Wright

Howell Harris was brought up to regard the Nonconformists as "a perverted and dangerously erroneous set of people." Hardly a promising start for a man who was to play a major role in the Welsh Revival. Yet in these extracts from his writings and diaries we can read the thoughts of Howell Harris before, during and after his own conversion.

We can see God breaking through the barriers separating "church and chapel", and discover Christians of different denominations preparing the country for revival. Wesley, Whitefield, Harris. These great 18th century preachers worked both independently and together to preach the Living Gospel. This book is a vivid first-hand account of the joys, hardships and struggles of one of these men -- Howell Harris (1714-1773).

eBook only

ISBN: 978-0-9933941-9-5

### From the Streets of London

### to the Streets of Gold

The Life Story of

Brother Clifford Edwards

A True Story of Love

by

Brother Clifford Edwards

eBook only

ISBN: 978-0-9933941-8-8

A printed copy is available directly from Brother Clifford -- thejesusbus@hotmail.co.uk

This is the personal story of Clifford Edwards, affectionately known as Brother Clifford by his many friends. Going from fame to poverty, he was sleeping on the streets of London with the homeless for twenty years, until Jesus rescued him and gave him an amazing mission in life. Brother Clifford tells his true story here in the third person, giving the glory to Jesus.

### Seven Steps to

### Walking in Victory

Lin Wills

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9957594-3-5

Also available as a booklet

www.lenandlin.com

How is your Christian life going? Finding it hard and not sure why? Wherever you might be, Seven Steps to Walking in Victory is a very short book to help you see where you are in the Christian life, and help you keep on the right path to the victory that comes through walking closely with Jesus -- to live the Christian life you always wanted to live!

### Seven Keys to

### Unlock Your Calling

Lin Wills

eBook ISBN: 978-1-9997899-2-3

Also available as a booklet

www.lenandlin.com

God has a special plan for each and every one of us -- that includes YOU! He has given all of us unique gifts. Not sure what that might mean for you? Seven Keys to Unlock Your Calling is a very short book that will help you discover how to explore those gifts and encourage you to go deeper into all that God has for you.

### English Hexapla

### The Gospel of John

(Paperback only)

Published to coincide with the 400th anniversary of the Authorized King James Version of the Bible, this book contains the full text of Bagster's assembled work for the Gospel of John. On each page in parallel columns are the words of the six most important translations of the New Testament into English, made between 1380 and 1611. Below the English is the original Greek text after Scholz.

To enhance the reading experience, there is an introduction telling how we got our English Bibles, with significant pages from early Bibles shown at the end of the book.

Here is an opportunity to read English that once split the Church by giving ordinary people the power to discover God's word for themselves. Now you can step back in time and discover those words and spellings for yourself, as they first appeared hundreds of years ago.

Wyclif 1380, Tyndale 1534, Cranmer 1539, Geneva 1557,

Douay Rheims 1582, Authorized (KJV) 1611.

English Hexapla \-- The Gospel of John

Published by White Tree Publishing

Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9525956-1-8

Size 7.5 x 9.7 inches paperback

Not available as an eBook

### Roddy Goes to Church

### Church Life and Church People

Derek Osborne

No, not a children's book! An affectionate, optimistic look at church life involving, as it happens, Roddy and his friends who live in a small town. Problems and opportunities related to change and outreach are not, of course, unique to their church!

Maybe you know Miss Prickly-Cat who pointedly sits in the same pew occupied by generations of her forebears, and perhaps know many of the characters in this look at church life today. A wordy Archdeacon comes on the scene, and Roddy is taken aback by the events following his first visit to church. Roddy's best friend Bushy-Beard says wise things, and he hears an enlightened Bishop . . .

Bishop David Pytches writes: A unique spoof on church life. Will you recognise yourself and your church here? ... Derek Osborne's mind here is insightful, his characters graphic and typical and the style acutely comical, but there is a serious message in his madness. Buy this, read it and enjoy!

David Pytches, Chorleywood

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9935005-0-3

Paperback ISBN: 978-09927642-0-3

46 pages 5.5 x 8.5 inches paperback UK

Available from bookstores and major internet sellers

### Heaven Our Home

William Branks

White Tree Publishing Abridged Edition

"I go to prepare a place for you." This well-known promise from Jesus must cause us to think about the reality of heaven. Heaven is to be our home for ever. Where is heaven? What is it like? Will I recognize people there? All who are Christians must surely want to hear about the place where they are to spend eternity. In this abridged edition of William Branks classic work of 1861, we discover what the Bible has to say about heaven. There may be a few surprises, and there are certainly some challenges as we explore a subject on which there seems to be little teaching and awareness today.

eBook only

ISBN: 978-0-9933941-8-8

### I See Men as Trees, Walking

Roger and Janet Niblett

Roger and Janet Niblett were just an ordinary English couple, but then they met the Lord and

their lives were totally transformed. Like the Bethlehem shepherds of old, they had a compulsion to share the same good news that Jesus Christ had come into the world to save sinners. Empowered by the Holy Spirit they proclaimed the gospel in the market place, streets, prisons, hospitals and churches with a vibrancy that only comes from being in direct touch with the Almighty and being readily available to serve Him as a channel of His grace and love. God was with them and blessed their ministry abundantly. Praise God! (Pastor Mervyn Douglas, Clevedon Family Church)

The story of Roger Niblett is an inspiration to all who serve the Lord. He was a prolific street evangelist, whose impact on the gospel scene was a wonder to behold. It was my privilege to witness his conversion, when he went forward to receive Christ at the Elim Church, Keynsham. The preacher was fiery Scottish evangelist Rev'd Alex Tee. It was not long before Roger too caught that same soul winner's fire which propelled him far and wide, winning multitudes for Christ. Together with his wife Janet, they proceeded to "Tell the World of Jesus". (Des Morton, Founder Minister of Keynsham Elim Church)

I know of no couple who have been more committed to sharing their faith from the earliest days of their journey with the Lord Jesus Christ. Along the way, at home and abroad, and with a tender heart for the marginalised, Rog and Jan have introduced multitudes to the Saviour and have inspired successive generations of believers to do the same. It was our joy and privilege to have them as part of the family at Trinity where Janet continues to serve in worship and witness. Loved by young and old alike, they will always have a special place in our hearts. (Andy Paget, Trinity Tabernacle, Bristol. Vice President, International Gospel Outreach)

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9935005-1-0

Also available as a paperback

(published by Gozo Publishing Bristol)

paperback ISBN: 978-1508674979

### Leaves from

### My Notebook

New Abridged Edition

William Haslam

(1818-1905)

You may have heard of the clergyman who was converted while preaching his own sermon! Well, this is man -- William Haslam. It happened in Cornwall one Sunday in 1851. He later wrote his autobiography in two books: From Death into Life and Yet not I. Here, in Leaves from my NoteBook, William Haslam writes about events and people not present in his autobiography. They make fascinating and challenging reading as we watch him sharing his faith one to one or in small groups, with dramatic results. Haslam was a man who mixed easily with titled gentry and the poorest of the poor, bringing the message of salvation in a way that people were ready to accept. This book has been lightly edited and abridged to make reading easier today by using modern punctuation and avoiding over-long sentences. William Haslam's amazing message is unchanged.

Original book first published 1889

eBook only

ISBN: 978-0-9935005-2-7

### Blunt's Scriptural Coincidences

### Gospels and Acts

J. J. Blunt

New Edition

This book will confirm (or restore) your faith in the Gospel records. Clearly the Gospels were not invented. There is too much unintentional agreement between them for this to be so. Undesigned coincidences are where writers tell the same account, but from a different viewpoint. Without conspiring together to get their accounts in agreement, they include unexpected (and often unnoticed) details that corroborate their records. Not only are these unexpected coincidences found within the Gospels, but sometimes a historical writer unknowingly and unintentionally confirms the Bible record.

Within these pages you will see just how accurate were the memories of the Gospel writers -- even of the smallest details which on casual reading can seem of little importance, yet clearly point to eyewitness accounts. J.J. Blunt spent many years investigating these coincidences. And here they are, as found in the four Gospels and Acts.

First published in instalments between 1833 and 1847

The edition used here published in 1876

eBook only

ISBN: 978-0-9935005-5-8

### Fullness of Power

### in Christian Life and Service

Home and Group Questions for Today Edition

R. A. Torrey

Questions by Chuck Antone, Jr.

This is a White Tree Publishing Home and Group Questions for Today Edition. At the end of each chapter are questions for use either in your personal study, or for sharing in a church or home group. Why? Because: "From many earnest hearts there is rising a cry for more power: more power in our personal conflict with the world, the flesh, and the devil; more power in our work for others. The Bible makes the way to obtain this longed-for power very plain. There is no presumption in undertaking to tell how to obtain Fullness of Power in Christian life and service; for the Bible itself tells, and the Bible was intended to be understood. R. A. Torrey (1856-1928) was an American evangelist, pastor, educator, and writer whose name is attached to several organisations, and whose work is still well known today.

"The Bible statement of the way is not mystical or mysterious. It is very plain and straightforward. If we will only make personal trial of The Power of the Word of God; The Power of the Blood of Christ; The Power of the Holy Spirit; The Power of Prayer; The Power of a Surrendered Life; we will then know the Fullness of Power in Christian life and service. We will try to make this plain in the following chapters. There are many who do not even know that there is a life of abiding rest, joy, satisfaction, and power; and many others who, while they think there must be something beyond the life they know, are in ignorance as to how to obtain it. This book is also written to help them." (Torrey's Introduction.)

eBook only

ISBN: 978-0-9935005-8-9

### Ebenezer and Ninety-Eight Friends

### Musings on Life, Scripture

### and the Hymns

Marty Magee

Samuel, Mephibosheth, and a woman on death row -- people telling of our Savior's love. A chicken, a dinosaur, and a tarantula -- just a few props to show how we can serve God and our neighbors. Peanut butter, pinto beans and grandmother's chow-chow -- merely tools to help share the Bread of Life. These are just a few of the characters in Ebenezer and Ninety-Eight Friends.

It is Marty's desire to bring the hymns out of their sometimes formal, Sunday best stuffy setting and into our Monday through Friday lives. At the same time, she presents a light object lesson and appropriate Scripture passage. This is done with the format of a devotion book, yet it has a light tone and style. From Ebenezer to Willie, Marty's characters can scarcely be contained within the pages of this whimsical yet insightful volume.

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9957594-1-1

Also in paperback

from Rickety Bridge Publishing

ISBN: 978-0-9954549-1-0

Available from bookstores and major internet sellers

ALSO BY MARTY MAGEE

### Twenty-five Days Around the Manger

### A Light Family Advent Devotional

Marty Magee

Will a purple bedroom help Marty's misgivings about Christmas?

As a kid, Martha Evans didn't like Christmas. Sixty years later, she still gets a little uneasy when this holiday on steroids rolls around. But she knows, when all the tinsel is pulled away, Whose Day it is. Now Marty Magee, she is blessed with five grandchildren who help her not take herself too seriously.

Do you know the angel named Herald? Will young Marty survive the embarrassment of her Charley Brown Christmas tree? And by the way, where's the line to see Jesus?

Twenty-Five Days Around the Manger goes from Marty's mother as a little girl awaiting her brother's arrival, to O Holy Night when our souls finally were able to feel their full worth.

This and much more. Join Marty around the manger this Advent season.

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9954549-1-0

Also in full colour paperback

from Rickety Bridge Publishing

ISBN: 978-1-4923248-0-5

Available from bookstores and major internet sellers

### The Gospels and Acts

### In Simple Paraphrase

### with Helpful Explanations

### together with

### Running Through the Bible

Chris Wright

White Tree Publishing presents a paraphrase in today's English of passages from the four Gospels -- Matthew, Mark, Luke and John -- relating Jesus' birth, life, death and resurrection in one continuous narrative with helpful explanations, plus a paraphrase of events from the book of Acts. Also in this book is a brief summary of the Epistles and Revelation. For readers unfamiliar with the New Testament, this book makes a valuable introduction, and it will surely help those familiar with the New Testament to gain some extra knowledge and understanding as they read it. Please note that this is not a translation of the Bible. It is a careful and sensitive paraphrase of parts of the New Testament, and is not intended to be quoted as Scripture. Part 2 is a short introduction to the whole Bible -- Running Through the Bible -- which is available from White Tree Publishing as a separate eBook and paperback.

Translators and others involved in foreign mission work, please note: If you believe that this copyright book, or part of this book, would be useful if translated into another language, please contact White Tree Publishing (wtpbristol@gmail.com). Permission will be free, and assistance in formatting and publishing your new translation as an eBook and/or a paperback may be available, also without charge.

Superb! I have never read anything like it. It is colloquially worded in a succinct, clear style with a brilliant (and very helpful) running commentary interspersed. I have found it a compelling read -- and indeed spiritually engaging and moving. Canon Derek Osborne, Norfolk, England.

eBook only

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9935005-9-6

### Faith that Prevails

### The Early Pentecostal Movement

Home and Group Questions for Today Edition

Smith Wigglesworth

Study Questions by Chuck Antone, Jr.

This is a White Tree Publishing Home and Group Questions for Today Edition. At the end of each of the seven chapters are questions by Chuck Antone, Jr. for use either in your personal study, or for sharing in a church or home group. Why? Because Smith Wigglesworth, often referred to as the Apostle of Faith, putting the emphasis on the work of the Holy Spirit, writes, "God is making people hungry and thirsty after His best. And everywhere He is filling the hungry and giving them that which the disciples received at the very beginning. Are you hungry? If you are, God promises that you shall be filled."

Smith Wigglesworth was one of the pioneers of the early Pentecostal revival. Born in 1859 he gave himself to Jesus at the age of eight and immediately led his mother to the Lord. His ministry took him to Europe, the US, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, the Pacific Islands, India and what was then Ceylon. Smith Wigglesworth's faith was unquestioning.

In this book, he says, "There is nothing impossible with God. All the impossibility is with us, when we measure God by the limitations of our unbelief."

eBook only

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9954549-4-1

### The Authority and

###  Interpretation

### of the Bible

J Stafford Wright

When we start to think about God, we soon come to a point where we say, "I can discover nothing more about God by myself. I must see whether He has revealed anything about Himself, about His character, and about the way to find Him and to please Him." From the beginning, the Christian church has believed that certain writings were the Word of God in a unique sense. Before the New Testament was compiled, Christians accepted the Old Testament as their sacred Book. Here they were following the example of Christ Himself. During His ministry Jesus Christ made great use of the Old Testament, and after His resurrection He spent some time in teaching His disciples that every section of the Old Testament had teachings in it concerning Himself. Any discussion of the inspiration of the Bible gives place sooner or later to a discussion of its interpretation. To say that the Bible is true, or infallible, is not sufficient: for it is one thing to have an infallible Book, and quite another to use it. J Stafford Wright was a greatly respected evangelical theologian and author, and former Principal of Tyndale Hall Theological College, Bristol.

eBook only

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9954549-9-6

### Psalms,

### A Guide Psalm By Psalm

J Stafford Wright

The Bible Psalms. Do you see them as a source of comfort? A help in daily living? A challenge? Or perhaps something to study in depth? Psalms, a Guide Psalm by Psalm will meet all these requirements, and more. It is an individual study guide that can be used for daily reading in conjunction with your own Bible. It is also a resource for group study, with brief questions for study and discussion. And it's a Bible commentary, dealing with the text of each Psalm section by section.

eBook only

eBook ISBN 978-0-9957594-2-8

### The Christian's Secret

### of a Happy Life

Hannah Whitall Smith

White Tree Publishing Edition

Christian and happy? Do these two words fit comfortably together? Is our Christian life a burden or a pleasure? Is our quiet time with the Lord a duty or a delight? The Christian's Secret of a Happy Life was first written by Hannah Whitall Smith as monthly instalments for an American magazine. Hannah was brought up as a Quaker, and became the feisty wife of a preacher. By the time she wrote The Christian's Secret of a Happy Life she had already lost three children. Her life was not easy, with her husband being involved in a sexual scandal and eventually losing his faith. So, Christian and happy? An alternative title for this book could have been The Christian's Secret of a Trusting Life.

How often, Hannah asks, do we bring our burdens to the Lord, as He told us to, only to take them home with us again? There are some wonderful and challenging chapters in this book, which Hannah revised throughout her life, as she came to see that the truth is in the Bible, not in our feelings. Fact, faith and feelings come in that order. As Hannah points out several times, feelings come last. The teaching in this book is firmly Scripture based, as Hannah insists that there is more to the Christian life than simply passing through the gate of salvation. There is a journey ahead for us, where every step we take should be consecrated to bring us closer and closer to God, day by day, and year by year.

eBook only

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9957594-6-6

### Every-Day Religion

Hannah Whitall Smith

White Tree Publishing Edition

How are we to live out our Christian lives every day? This book isn't about everyday (ordinary) religion, but about a living faith that changes our lives day by day. Hannah Whitall Smith had to live her life based on her trust in Scripture and the promises of God. In 1875, after the loss of three children, and her husband suffering a mental breakdown after being accused of infidelity, she was able to write The Christian's Secret of a Happy Life, in which she showed that it is possible to find peace with the Lord, no matter what life throws at us, through trusting in His promises.

In 1894, after the death of yet another child, with her three surviving children professing atheism, and her husband losing his faith, Hannah's trust in the Lord Jesus is still so strong that she is able to write in her introduction to her Scripture-based Every-Day Religion, that the purpose of the book is, "To bring out, as far as possible, the common-sense teaching of the Bible in regard to every-day religion. ... How to have inward peace in the midst of outward turmoil."

eBook only

ISBN: 978-1-9997899-0-9

### Haslam's Journey

Chris Wright

White Tree Publishing Edition

Previously published 2005 by Highland Books

If you only intend to read just one Christian book, this should be the one! You may have heard of the clergyman who was converted while preaching his own sermon. Well, William Haslam is that man. It happened in Cornwall one Sunday in 1851, and revival immediately broke out. Later, another of William Haslam's "famous" sermons will cause a mass walkout of assembled clergy in St Paul's Cathedral! Once he starts to preach the Gospel with zeal, you can rejoice over powerful conversions in nearly every chapter.

Haslam's Journey consists of selected passages from William Haslam's two autobiographies: From Death Into Life (published 1880, his Cornish ministry) and Yet Not I (published 1882, set mostly in Bath, Norfolk and London), abridged and lightly modernised. Just under half of the originals is included. With copious notes and appendices by Chris Wright, editor of Haslam's Leaves also from White Tree Publishing. William Haslam writes with humour and great insight.

William Haslam writes about his early life: "I did not see then, as I have since, that turning over a new leaf to cover the past is not by any means the same thing as turning back the old leaves and getting them washed in the blood of the Lamb. I thought my acceptance with God depended upon my works. This made me very diligent in prayer, fasting and alms deeds. I often sat and dreamed about the works of mercy and devotion I would do."

eBook only

ISBN: 978-1-9997899-8-5

### My Life and Work

Gipsy Smith

White Tree Publishing Edition

Rodney "Gipsy" Smith was born in a gipsy tent in Epping Forest, England. He was the son of gipsies, Cornelius Smith and his wife Mary. Growing up, he had to help support the family by making and selling items like clothes pegs around the area. He only had a few weeks at school one winter, and was unable to read or write. One day his father Cornelius came home to say that he had been converted, and was now a Christian. Cornelius helped bring his son to the Lord, and from that moment, Rodney wanted to share the way of salvation with others.

Now followed a difficult time, because he knew that in order to preach to others, he had to be able to read the Bible, both for himself and aloud to others. He writes, "I began to practise preaching. One Sunday I entered a turnip field and preached most eloquently to the turnips. I had a very large and most attentive congregation. Not one of them made an attempt to move away." When he started preaching to people, and came across a long word in the Bible he was unable to read, he says he stopped at the long word and spoke on what had gone before, and started reading again at the word after the long one!

Gipsy Smith quickly learnt to read fluently and was soon into fulltime evangelism, where he soon became known as Gipsy Smith, a name he accepted gladly. He joined the Salvation Army for a time, until being told to resign. Instead of this being a setback, he now took up a much wider sphere of work in England, before travelling to America and Australia where he became a much-loved preacher. In spite of meeting two American presidents at the White House, and other important figures in society, Gipsy Smith never forgot his roots. He never pretended to be anything other than a Gipsy boy, and was always pleased to come across other Gipsy families in his travels. Like Billy Bray and others uneducated writers, Gipsy Smith tells the story of his life in a simple and compelling way. This is the account written by a man who gave himself fully to the Lord, and was used to help lead thousands to Jesus Christ as their Saviour.

eBook only

ISBN: 978-1-9997899-4-7

### Living in the Sunshine:

### The God of All Comfort

Hannah Whitall Smith

White Tree Publishing Edition

Hannah Smith, who suffered so much in her personal life, has an amazing Bible-based grasp of God's love for each of us. She writes in this book: "Why, I ask myself, should the children of God lead such utterly uncomfortable Christian lives when He has led us to believe that His yoke would be easy and His burden light? Why are we tormented with so many spiritual doubts, and such heavy spiritual anxieties? Why do we find it so hard to be sure that God really loves us?

"But here, perhaps, you will meet me with the words, 'Oh, no, I do not blame the Lord, but I am so weak and so foolish, and so ignorant that I am not worthy of His care.' But do you not know that sheep are always weak, and helpless, and silly; and that the very reason they are compelled to have a shepherd to care for them is just because they are so unable to take care of themselves? Their welfare and their safety, therefore, do not in the least depend upon their own strength, nor upon their own wisdom, nor upon anything in themselves, but wholly and entirely upon the care of their shepherd. And if you are a sheep, your welfare also must depend altogether upon your Shepherd, and not at all upon yourself!"

Note: This is Hannah Smith's final book. It was first published as Living in the Sunshine, and later republished as The God of All Comfort, the title of the third chapter. The edition used here is the British edition of Living in the Sunshine, dated 1906.

eBook only

ISBN: 978-1-9997899-3-0

### Evangelistic Talks

Gipsy Smith

White Tree Publishing Edition

This book is a selection of 19 talks given by Gipsy Smith which will provide inspirational reading, and also be a source of help for those who speak. There are also 20 "two-minute sermonnettes" as the last chapter! Rodney "Gipsy" Smith was born in a gipsy tent in Epping Forest, England. He was the son of gipsies, Cornelius Smith and his wife Mary. Growing up, he had to help support the family by making and selling items like clothes pegs around the area. He only had a few weeks at school one winter, and was unable to read or write. One day his father Cornelius came home to say that he had been converted, and was now a Christian. Cornelius helped bring his son to the Lord, and from that moment, Rodney wanted to share the way of salvation with others.

He quickly learnt to read fluently and was soon into fulltime evangelism, where he became known as Gipsy Smith, a name he accepted gladly. He preached throughout England, before travelling to America and Australia. Wherever he went he was a much-loved and powerful preacher, bringing thousands to the Lord.

eBook only

ISBN: 978-1-9997899-7-8

### I Can't Help Praising the Lord

### The Life of Billy Bray

Chris Wright

White Tree Publishing Edition

"I can't help praising the Lord!" said Billy Bray. "As I go along the street I lift up one foot, and it seems to say 'Glory!' and I lift up the other, and it seems to say 'Amen'; and so they keep on like that all the time I am walking."

Billy was a tin miner by trade and he loved his native Cornwall, but his love for souls was greater. When he was criticized for building a new chapel he replied, "If this new chapel ... stands one hundred years, and one soul be converted in it every year, that will be one hundred souls -- and one soul is worth more than all Cornwall!"

Billy Bray (1794-1868) found a real excitement in his Christian life, and discovered the secret of living by faith. His outspoken comments are often amusing, but the reader will be challenged by their directness.

This book has a strong message of encouragement for Christians today. Billy believed and accepted the promises in the Bible, and lived a life that was Spirit filled.

FW Bourne, the writer of the original book, The King's Son, knew Billy Bray as a friend. In it he has used Billy's own writing, the accounts of others who had met Billy, and his own memories.

Chris Wright has revised and edited FW Bourne's book to produce this new edition, adding sections directly from the autobiography of William Haslam who met Billy, and from Billy Bray's own handwritten Journal, keeping Billy's rough and ready grammar and wording, which surely helps us picture this amazing man of God.

eBook

ISBN: 978-1-912529-01-8

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-912529-00-1

5x8 inches 86 pages

Available from major internet stores

Also on sale in Billy Bray's Chapel

Kerley Downs, Cornwall

eBook Coming 23rd April 2018

### As Jesus Passed By

Gipsy Smith

White Tree Publishing Edition

To introduce this book of some of his evangelistic talks in 1905, Gipsy Smith writes: "After much pressure I have consented to the publication of these Addresses. They were delivered to crowded audiences with a burning desire to bring those who heard them to an immediate decision for Christ. Here they are, practically as they were spoken, and if I am so led, they will be preached again, for God has been pleased to bless them to thousands. Whether heard or read, my one desire is the extension of Christ's kingdom all over the world."

"Gipsy" Smith was born in a gipsy tent in Epping Forest, England. He was the son of gipsies, Cornelius Smith and his wife Mary. Growing up, he had to help support the family by making and selling items like clothes pegs around the area. He only had a few weeks at school one winter, and was unable to read or write. One day his father Cornelius came home to say that he had been converted, and was now a Christian. Cornelius helped bring his son to the Lord, and from that moment, Rodney wanted to share the way of salvation with others.

He quickly learnt to read fluently and was soon into fulltime evangelism, where he became known as Gipsy Smith, a name he accepted gladly. He preached throughout England, before travelling to America and Australia. Wherever he went he was a much-loved and powerful preacher, bringing thousands to the Lord.

eBook only

ISBN: 978-1-912529-05-6

eBook coming 28th May 2018

Paperback available now

### Rifted Clouds

All Three Parts

by

Bella Cooke

This is a true story of amazing faith. After being dropped as a baby and receiving a spinal injury in England, Bella Cooke suffers serious illness, family bereavement and what seems like nothing but loss in her married life. Bed bound and in constant pain in New York, at the age of forty she is able to write, "I have so often seen and felt that He knows so much better than I what is best for me, that I dare not take my little affairs out of His hands."

This is not a 'photocopy' of the pages of the three original books. Published here in a single volume, the originals have been completely re-typeset, with sentences and paragraphs broken into shorter lengths, making for easier reading.

Bella Cooke, a much-loved mother and grandmother, sees that her lifetime in bed can be spent helping others with great needs, both spiritual and practical. Feeling no self pity, she runs a food bank from her bed, and receives several thousand visitors each year, of all ages and with all needs. She writes, "I thank my Heavenly Father for all His goodness to me in permitting me to do a little for Him, for the bodies as well as the souls of many."

Job, in the Old Testament suffered much loss, and had unhelpful advice from his companions. Bella also suffered much loss, but unlike Job she was blessed with wise Christian friends. Also, unlike Job, she had to wait nearly fifty painful years to receive her restoration -- in heaven.

Bella was a much loved mother and grandmother. In 1884, a friend wrote to Bella's daughter, Mary, "I think it a great privilege to have known your dear mother. If one were to be told the story of her life without seeing her, it would be difficult to credit it, and yet it is more wonderful than can be told. Her power and influence over children are very great, and they always enjoy going to see her and connect nothing but pleasure with her sickroom. Of her work among the poor it is unnecessary to speak, for all who know her must have heard of it. I can only say that I believe she has accomplished more than any well woman I know, in her work for the suffering and needy, while at the same time suffering intensely herself."

Bella's insight into suffering in all forms, and how it can be turned to blessing, makes this a truly uplifting book.

Bella Cooke writes, "[This book] has been written in great pain \-- how much, none can ever know -- and with much prayer that the blessing of God may go with it, and that it may prove a blessing to many."

eBook ISBN: 978-1-912529-08-7

Also available as a paperback ISBN: 978-1-912529-09-4

eBook coming 25June 2018

### Real Religion

Gipsy Smith

White Tree Publishing Edition

Gipsy Smith writes, "When your Church membership is to you all that it ought to be, when you are alive from the dead and filled with the Holy Spirit, then you will accomplish something. Just as long as the Church of God is content to remain one of many institutions, she will have her little day and die; but the moment she becomes so God-filled and God-inspired that she is unique -- when the world looks on and says that she is drunk and mad -- at that moment she will be on the highway to capture the world for Christ." Here are Thirteen Revival Sermons delivered by evangelist Gipsy Smith during his twentieth visit to America.

eBook only

ISBN: 978-1-912529-10-0

Christian Fiction

### The Lost Clue

Mrs. O. F. Walton

White Tree Publishing Edition

A Romantic Mystery

With modern line drawings

Living the life of a wealthy man, Kenneth Fortescue receives devastating news from his father. But he is only able to learn incomplete facts about his past, because a name has been obliterated from a very important letter. Two women are vying for Kenneth's attention -- Lady Violet, the young daughter of Lady Earlswood, and Marjorie Douglas, the daughter of a widowed parson's wife.

Written in 1905 by the much-loved author Mrs. O. F. Walton, this edition has been lightly abridged and edited to make it easier to read and understand today. This romantic mystery story gives an intriguing glimpse into the class extremes that existed in Edwardian England, with wealthy titled families on one side, and some families living in terrible poverty on the other.

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9932760-2-6

### Doctor Forester

Mrs. O. F. Walton

White Tree Publishing Edition

A Romantic Mystery

with modern line drawings

Doctor Forester, a medical man only twenty-five years old, has come to a lonely part of Wales to escape from an event in his recent past that has caused him much hurt. So he has more on his mind than worrying about strange noises behind his bedroom wall in the old castle where he is staying.

A young woman who shares part of the journey with him is staying in the same village. He is deeply attracted to her, and believes that she is equally attracted to him. But he soon has every reason to think that his old school friend Jack is also courting her.

Written and taking place in the early 1900s, this romantic mystery is a mix of excitement and heartbreak. What is the secret of Hildick Castle? And can Doctor Forester rid himself of the past that now haunts his life?

Mrs. O. F. Walton was a prolific writer in the late 1800s, and this abridged edition captures all of the original writer's insight into what makes a memorable story. With occasional modern line drawings.

* * *

Ghosts of the past kept flitting through his brain. Dark shadows which he tried to chase away seemed to pursue him. Here these ghosts were to be laid; here those shadows were to be dispelled; here that closed chapter was to be buried for ever. So he fought long and hard with the phantoms of the past until the assertive clock near his bedroom door announced that it was two o'clock.

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9932760-0-2

### Was I Right?

Mrs. O. F. Walton

White Tree Publishing Edition

A Victorian Romance

With modern line drawings

May Lindsay and her young stepsister Maggie are left penniless and homeless when their father the local doctor dies. Maggie can go to live with her three maiden aunts, but May at the age of nineteen is faced with a choice. Should she take the position of companion to a girl she doesn't know, who lives some distance away, or accept a proposal of marriage from the man who has been her friend since they were small children?

May Lindsay makes her decision, but it is not long before she wonders if she has done the right thing. This is a story of life in Victorian England as May, who has led a sheltered life, is pushed out into a much bigger world than she has previously known. She soon encounters titled families, and is taken on a tour of the Holy Land which occupies much of the story.

Two men seem to be a big disappointment to May Lindsay. Will her Christian faith hold strong in these troubles? Was she right in the decision she made before leaving home?

Mrs. O. F. Walton was a prolific writer in the late 1800s, and this abridged edition captures all of the original writer's insight into what makes a memorable story. With occasional modern line drawings.

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9932760-1-9

### In His Steps

Charles M. Sheldon

White Tree Publishing Edition

This new abridged edition of a classic story that has sold over an estimated 30 million copies, contains Charles Sheldon's original writing, with some passages sensitively abridged to allow his powerful story to come through for today's readers. Nothing in the storyline has been changed.

A homeless man staggers into a wealthy church and upsets the congregation. A week later he is dead. This causes the Rev. Henry Maxwell to issue a startling challenge to his congregation and to himself -- whatever you do in life over the next twelve months, ask yourself this question before making any decision: "What would Jesus do?"

The local newspaper editor, a novelist, a wealthy young woman who has inherited a million dollars, her friend who has been offered a professional singing career, the superintendent of the railroad workshops, a leading city merchant and others take up the challenge. But how will it all work out when things don't go as expected?

A bishop gives up his comfortable lifestyle -- and finds his life threatened in the city slums. The story is timeless. A great read, and a challenge to every Christian today.

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9927642-9-6

Also available in paperback 254 pages 5.5 x 8.5 inches

Paperback ISBN 13: 978-19350791-8-7

A Previously Unpublished Book

### Locked Door Shuttered Windows

A Novel by J Stafford Wright

What is inside the fascinating house with the locked door and the shuttered windows? Satan wants an experiment. God allows it. John is caught up in the plan as Satan's human representative. The experiment? To demonstrate that there can be peace in the world if God allows Satan to run things in his own way. A group of people gather together in an idyllic village run by Satan, with no reference to God, and no belief in him.

J Stafford Wright has written this startling and gripping account of what happens when God stands back and Satan steps forward. All seems to go well for the people who volunteer to take part. And no Christians allowed!

John Longstone lost his faith when teaching at a theological college. Lost it for good -- or so he thinks. And then he meets Kathleen who never had a faith. As the holes start to appear in Satan's scheme for peace, they wonder if they should help or hinder the plans which seem to have so many benefits for humanity.

eBook ISBN 13: 978-0-9932760-3-3

Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9927642-4-1

206 pages 5.25 x 8.0 inches

Available from bookstores and major internet sellers

### When it Was Dark

Guy Thorne

White Tree Publishing Edition

What would happen to the Christian faith if it could be proved beyond all doubt that Jesus did not rise from the dead? This is the situation when, at the end of the nineteenth century, eminent archaeologists working outside Jerusalem discover a tomb belonging to Joseph of Arimathea, with an inscription claiming that he took the body of Jesus from the first tomb and hid it. And there are even remains of a body. So no resurrection!

As churches quickly empty, some Christians cling to hope, saying that Jesus lives within them, so He must be the Son of God who rose from the dead. Others are relieved that they no longer have to believe and go to church. Society starts to break down.

With the backing of a wealthy industrialist, a young curate puts together a small team to investigate the involvement of a powerful atheist in the discovery. This is an abridged edition of a novel first published in 1903.

Guy Thorne was the English author of many thrillers in the early twentieth century, and this book was not intended specifically for the Christian market. It contains adult references in places, but no swearing or offensive language. Although it was written from a high church Anglican viewpoint, the author is positive about the various branches of the Christian faith, finding strengths and weaknesses in individual church and chapel members as their beliefs are threatened by the discovery in Jerusalem. White Tree Publishing believes this book will be a great and positive challenge to Christians today as we examine the reality of our faith.

White Tree Publishing Abridged Edition

Published jointly with North View Publishing

eBook only

ISBN: 978-0-9954549-0-3

### Silverbeach Manor

Margaret S. Haycraft

White Tree Publishing Edition

Pansy is an orphan who is cared for by her aunt, Temperance Piper, who keeps the village post office and store. One day Pansy meets wealthy Mrs. Adair who offers to take her under her wing and give her a life of wealth in high society that she could never dream of, on condition Pansy never revisits her past life. When they first meet, Mrs. Adair says about Pansy's clothes, "The style is a little out of date, but it is good enough for the country. I should like to see you in a really well-made dress. It would be quite a new sensation for you, if you really belong to these wilds. I have a crimson and gold tea gown that would suit you delightfully, and make you quite a treasure for an artist." This is a story of rags to riches to ... well, to a life where nothing is straightforward. First published in 1891.

White Tree Publishing Abridged Edition

eBook only

ISBN: 978-0-9935005-4-1

### Gildas Haven

Margaret S. Haycraft

White Tree Publishing Abridged Edition

For several years in the peaceful English village of Meadthorpe, the church and chapel have existed in an uneasy peace while the rector and the chapel minister are distracted by poor health. Now a young curate arrives at St Simeon's, bringing high church ritual and ways of worship. Gildas Haven, the daughter of the chapel minister is furious to discover the curate is enticing her Sunday school children away. The curate insists that his Church ways are right, and Gildas who has only known chapel worship says the opposite.

Battle lines are quickly drawn by leaders and congregations. Mary Haycraft writes with light humour and surprising insight in what could be a controversial story line. With at least one major surprise, the author seems to be digging an impossible hole for herself as the story progresses. The ending of this sensitively told romance is likely to come as a surprise.

White Tree Publishing Abridged Edition

eBook only

ISBN: 978-0-9935005-7-2

### Amaranth's Garden

Margaret S. Haycraft

White Tree Publishing Edition

"It seems, Miss, your father drew out that money yesterday, and took it all out in gold. The Rector happened to be in the Bank at the time, but was on his way to town, and could not stop to talk to your father just then, though he wondered to hear him say he had come to draw out everything, as treasurer of the fund." Amaranth Glyn's comfortable life comes to an end when the church funds disappear. Her father, the church treasurer who drew out the money, is also missing, to be followed shortly by her mother. The disgrace this brings on the family means Amaranth's marriage plans are cancelled. Amaranth is a competent artist and moves away with her young brother to try to earn a living. There are rumours that her parents are in France and even in Peru. Caring for her sick brother, Amaranth wants life to be as it was before the financial scandal forced her to leave her family home and the garden she loved.

White Tree Publishing Abridged Edition

eBook only

ISBN: 978-0-9935005-6-5

### Rose Capel's Sacrifice

Margaret Haycraft

White Tree Publishing Edition

Rose and Maurice Capel find themselves living in poverty through no fault of their own, and their daughter Gwen is dangerously ill and in need of a doctor and medicine, which they cannot possibly afford. There seems to be only one option -- to offer their daughter to Maurice Capel's unmarried sister, Dorothy, living in the beautiful Welsh countryside, and be left with nothing more than memories of Gwen. Dorothy has inherited her father's fortune and cut herself off from the family. Although Gwen would be well cared for, if she got better and Rose and Maurice's finances improved, would they be able to ask for Gwen to be returned? Another story from popular Victorian writer Margaret S. Haycraft.

White Tree Publishing Abridged Edition

eBook only

ISBN: 978-0-9954549-3-4

### Una's Marriage

Margaret Haycraft

White Tree Publishing Edition

Una Latreille inherits the St Pensart's estate which has been in the family since the Norman Conquest. Unfortunately the estate is now bankrupt, and although still in mourning, Una's only hope of living in the style to which she has been accustomed is to marry a wealthy man, and quickly. Several suitors have disappeared after learning of the debts, and the one man who still expresses any interest in Una is Keith Broughton. Keith started work as a mill hand, and is now the young and wealthy owner of a large woollen mill. But how can she possibly marry so far beneath her class? Reluctantly, Una agrees to marriage on condition that there is no physical contact between them, and certainly no honeymoon! She also insists that she will never, ever suffer the indignity of meeting anyone in his family, or put one foot inside the door of his mill. This book was first published in 1898 by SW Partridge and Co, publishers of both Christian and secular books. Although there is no openly Christian message in this story, unlike the majority of Margaret Haycraft's books, it deals sensitively with the true nature of love -- as well as being an extremely readable story.

White Tree Publishing Edition

eBook only

ISBN: 978-0-9957594-5-9

### Miss Elizabeth's Niece

Margaret Haycraft

White Tree Publishing Edition

"You have scandalised your name and ours, and the only thing to do is to make the best of it, and teach Maisie at least the first principles of ladylike conduct." Trevor Stratheyre, from a wealthy and aristocratic English family, impulsively marries Maisie, a servant girl he meets while touring the Continent. Maisie's mother had died at an Italian inn, leaving three-year-old Maisie to be brought up by the landlord and his wife, where she helps as a maid at the inn and cares for the animals. Maisie is charming and affectionate, but when Trevor brings her back to Stratheyre in England as his bride, to the large estate he is expecting to inherit, it is clear that Maisie's ways are not those of the upper classes. When she tells titled guests at dinner that she was once herding some cows home and one was struck by lightning, trouble is bound to follow.

White Tree Publishing Edition

eBook only

ISBN: 978-0-9957594-7-3

### Keena Karmody

Eliza Kerr

White Tree Publishing Edition

Keena Karmody finishes school in London and invites her young French teacher, Marie Delorme, to stay with her on her grandfather's estate at Céim-an-eich in Ireland as her tutor, to complete her education. One day Keena will inherit the large house and the family money. As time goes on, Marie Delorme's stay becomes permanent as she makes secret plans to take possession of the estate. When Keena's grandfather dies, Keena finds that he has made a very different will than the one everyone expected, and Marie is now mistress of the house. What is the shameful family secret that no one has ever discussed with Keena? Her only hope of getting her life back together lies in discovering this secret, and the answer could be with her father's grave in Tuscany. Homeless and penniless Keena Karmody sets out for Italy.

"When she had sought out and found that grave in the distant Tuscan village, and learned the story of her father's life and death, perhaps then death would come, and she might be laid there at his side in peace, and Marie would dwell in Céim-an-eich."

White Tree Publishing Edition

eBook only

ISBN: 978-1-9997899-5-4

### The Clever Miss Jancy

Margaret S. Haycraft

White Tree Publishing Edition

Miss Orabel Jancy is indeed clever, and she knows it. The oldest of widowed Squire Jancy's six children, all living at home, Orabel is the author of several scientific books, and has many letters after her name. To Orabel, education and intellectual pursuits are everything that matter in life. She is secretary of a women's intellectual club that teaches that women are superior to men, and the members have all agreed to remain single because men would hold them back in their academic goals. However, when Orabel was born, a deathbed promise was made with a friend that Orabel and the friend's son, Harold Kingdon, should be given the opportunity to marry. Nobody thinks to mention this to Orabel, and she only learns of the arrangement when she is grown up and Harold Kingdon is already on his way from India -- to propose to her! Even before Harold arrives, Orabel decides she cannot possibly marry a lowly military doctor, when she is so intelligent. As soon as they meet, the feeling of dislike is mutual. But Orabel's younger sister, Annis, who never did well in academic subjects, is also of marriageable age, and would dearly love to settle down with the right man. Their younger brother and small sisters view the developing situation with interest.

The Squire had never found courage to broach the fact of the offer to Orabel, who looks as though her blue eyes would wither the sheet of foreign notepaper in front of her.

"You know, Orabel," puts in Annis, "we did hear something long ago about papa and mamma promising somebody or other out in India should have a chance to court you."

"Oh, do say 'yes,' Orabel," pleads a chorus of little sisters. "It will be so lovely to have a wedding, and Phil can be a page and wear a fancy dress."

"Can he?" growls Philip. "I'd like to catch myself in lace and velvet like those kids at the Hemmings' last week. Orabel, I think you ought to send him your portrait. Let him know, at least, what he's wooing."

With these words Philip beats a prudent retreat, and Orabel gives utterance to such tones that Annis, trembling at her side, is almost in tears.

"Has it come to this," Orabel asks, "that I, the secretary of the Mount Athene Club, should be affronted, insulted by a letter like this? Am I not Orabel Jancy? Am I not the pioneer of a new and emancipating system? And who is this Harold Kingdon that he dares to cross my path with his jests concerning infantile betrothal?"

White Tree Publishing Edition

eBook only

ISBN: 978-0-9957594-9-7

### A Daughter of the King

Mrs Philip Barnes

White Tree Publishing Edition

There are the usual misunderstandings in the small village of Royden, but one year they combine to cause serious friction. An elderly lady, the embodiment of kindness, is turned out of her favourite pew by the new vicar. Young and old residents start to view each other with suspicion when a banished husband returns, allegedly to harm his wife and children as he did once before. Both Mary Grey and Elsa Knott want to marry young Gordon Pyne, who lives in the White House, but Gordon is suddenly accused of his father's murder. This is a very readable romance from 1909, with many twists and turns. It has been lightly abridged and edited. A story in the style of those by White Tree Publishing's most popular author, Margaret S. Haycraft.

White Tree Publishing Edition

eBook only

ISBN: 978-0-9957594-8-0

### Hazel Haldene

Eliza Kerr

White Tree Publishing Edition

Two grownup sisters live under their older brother's thumb. He is obsessed with perfect Christian doctrine and farming, and cannot see why his sisters should want any company but his own. Marie is fond of a local artist, but her brother will not allow such a marriage. Marie's only hope of freedom is to run away and marry in secret. When she returns to the family home eight years later with a child, surely she will be welcome by a brother who professes religion. This story by Eliza Kerr again takes the theme of rejection, but her stories are all very different as well as involving.

White Tree Publishing Edition

eBook only

ISBN: 978-1-9997899-8-5

### Rollica Reed

Eliza Kerr

White Tree Publishing Edition

When Rollica Reed is left an orphan at the age of sixteen, a friend of her father's takes her in, much to the dismay of his wife and two older daughters who consider themselves to be the cream of Victorian society. The wife and daughters resent Rollica as an intruder, and try to make her life wretched, humiliating her in front of friends and telling her she is too common to be a lady. The two unmarried daughters are concerned by Rollica's naturally good looks, and want to cut her off from meeting any of their friends. Rollica soon learns she must not show any sign of weakness if she is to survive. But can she ever forgive?

White Tree Publishing Edition

eBook only

ISBN: 978-1-9997899-6-1

### Freda's Folly

Margaret S Haycraft

White Tree Publishing Edition

Freda Beresford is an aspiring young writer whose work is constantly rejected. Her young brother wants to go to university, but money is scarce. One day Freda receives a letter from a distant aunt, congratulating her on getting a story published in a leading literary journal. Enclosed is a large cheque and a promise to help Freda to a literary career. The money would mean that her brother can go to university, and Freda begins to feel famous at last. Unfortunately, Freda did not write the story, but she accepts the cheque and the deception starts. What begins as a light hearted novella, from one of White Tree Publishing's favourite authors of fiction, gets darker as Freda's deception has far reaching consequences. Readers will share Freda's unease as her initial deception leads her deeper and deeper towards the inevitable disgrace.

White Tree Publishing edition

eBook only

eBook ISBN: 978-1-912529-02-5

eBook coming 2nd April 2018

### Sybil's Repentance

Margaret S Haycraft

White Tree Publishing Edition

Sybil Agmere, an orphan, is taken in by a loving mother with four children and a strict grandfather. The mother's brother left the family home in disgrace many years before, never to be mentioned again. Sybil calls the mother her aunt, and is concerned when the brother reappears. The grandfather changes the inheritance in his will, but Sybil, at the age of eleven, reasons that if she can destroy the latest will, justice will be done. Her aunt will inherit, and all will be well. As the years go on, as Sybil sits in the family home, she sees that destroying the will is bringing nothing but trouble, yet she cannot admit to what she did. And even if she did admit it, the past could never be changed. After being persuaded into an engagement with a most unsuitable man, Sybil sees any hope of happiness fade away. Surely it is too late to undo the years of injustice and of wrong. There are wrongs no repentance can set right.

White Tree Publishing edition

eBook only

eBook ISBN: 978-1-912529-04-9

### Sister Royal

Margaret S Haycraft

White Tree Publishing Edition

Beryl Rosslyn Aylmer, known from childhood as Bride, is suffering from seizures. Her young brother, Bonny, calls in Dr. Gildredge, but quickly realises he has made a mistake, for he takes an immediate dislike to the man. Dr. Gildredge is determined to become famous throughout Europe, and diagnoses a rare condition in Bride that he will attempt to treat, and write about it in the medical journals -- whether she recovers or not. Dr, Gildredge soon sees that the only way to keep control of Bride's treatment is to persuade her to marry him, and also stop young Bonny from seeing her. As is to be expected, the outcome is far from straightforward. This story by Margaret S Haycraft is a very readable mix of romance and revenge.

White Tree Publishing edition

eBook only

eBook ISBN: 978-1-912529-03-2

## Books for Younger Readers

(and older readers too!)

### The Merlin Adventure

Chris Wright

The day Daniel Talbot brought home a stuffed duck in a glass case, everyone thought he'd gone out of his mind. Even he had his doubts at times. "Fancy spending your money on that," his mother scolded him. "You needn't think it's coming into this house, because it isn't!"

When Daniel, Emma, Charlie and Julia, the Four Merlins, set out to sail their model paddle steamer on the old canal, strange and dangerous things start to happen. Then Daniel and Julia make a discovery they want to share with the others.

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9954549-2-7

Paperback ISBN: 9785-203447-7-5

5x8 inches 182 pages

Available from major internet stores

### The Hijack Adventure

Chris Wright

Anna's mother has opened a transport café, but why do the truck drivers avoid stopping there? An accident in the road outside brings Anna a new friend, Matthew. When they get trapped in a broken down truck with Matthew's dog, Chip, their adventure begins.

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9954549-6-5

Available now in paperback

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-5203448-0-5

5x8 inches 140 pages

Available from major internet stores

### The Seventeen Steps Adventure

Chris Wright

When Ryan's American cousin, Natalie, comes to stay with him in England, a film from their Gran's old camera holds some surprise photographs, and they discover there's more to photography than taking selfies! But where are the Seventeen Steps, and has a robbery been planned to take place there?

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9954549-7-2

Available now in paperback

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-5203448-6-7

5x8 inches 132 pages

Available from major internet stores

### The Two Jays Adventure

The First Two Jays Story

Chris Wright

James and Jessica, the Two Jays, are on holiday in the West Country in England where they set out to make some exciting discoveries. Have they found the true site of an ancient holy well? Is the water in it dangerous? Why does an angry man with a bicycle tell them to keep away from the deserted stone quarry?

A serious accident on the hillside has unexpected consequences, and an old Latin document may contain a secret that's connected to the two strange stone heads in the village church -- if James and Jessica can solve the puzzle. An adventure awaits! This is the first Two Jays adventure story. You can read them in any order, although each one goes forward slightly in time.

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9954549-8-9

Available now in paperback

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-5203448-8-1

5x8 inches 196 pages

Available from major internet stores

### The Dark Tunnel Adventure

The Second Two Jays Story

Chris Wright

James and Jessica, the Two Jays, are on holiday in the Derbyshire Peak District in England, staying near Dakedale Manor, which has been completely destroyed in a fire. Did young Sam Stirling burn his family home down? Miss Parkin, the housekeeper, says he did, and she can prove it. Sam says he didn't, and he can't prove it. But Sam has gone missing. James and Jessica believe the truth lies behind one of the old iron doors inside the disused railway tunnel. This is the second Two Jays adventure story. You can read them in any order, although each one goes forward slightly in time.

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9957594-0-4

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-5206386-3-8

188 pages 5x8 inches

Available from major internet stores

### The Cliff Edge Adventure

The Third Two Jays Story

Chris Wright

James and Jessica's Aunt Judy lives in a lonely guest house perched on top of a crumbling cliff on the west coast of Wales. She is moving out with her dog for her own safety, because she has been warned that the waves from the next big storm could bring down a large part of the cliff -- and her house with it. Cousins James and Jessica, the Two Jays, are helping her sort through her possessions, and they find an old papyrus page they think could be from an ancient copy of one of the Gospels. Two people are extremely interested in having it, but can either of them be trusted? James and Jessica are alone in the house. It's dark, the electricity is off, and the worst storm in living memory is already battering the coast. Is there someone downstairs? This is the third Two Jays adventure story. You can read them in any order, although each one goes forward slightly in time.

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9957594-4-2

Paperback ISBN: 9781-5-211370-3-1

188 pages 5x8 inches

### The Midnight Farm Adventure

The Fourth Two Jays Story

Chris Wright

What is hidden in the old spoil tip by the disused Midnight Mine? Two men have permission to dig there, but they don't want anyone watching -- especially not Jessica and James, the Two Jays. And where is Granfer Joe's old tin box, full of what he called his treasure? The Easter holiday at Midnight Farm in Cornwall isn't as peaceful as James's parents planned. An early morning bike ride nearly ends in disaster, and with the so-called Hound of the Baskervilles running loose, things turn out to be decidedly dangerous. This is the fourth Two Jays adventure story. You can read them in any order, although each one goes forward slightly in time.

eBook ISBN: 978-1-9997899-1-6

Also available in paperback

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-5497148-3-2

200 pages 5x8 inches

Available 4th June 2018

### The Old House Adventure

The Fifth Two Jays Story

Chris Wright

When Jessica comes to stay with her cousin James for the summer half term, they pass a creepy old house on their way to the town museum. James rescues Maddie Quedgley, a girl their age, from being run over by a speeding truck, but when James and Jessica, known as the Two Jays, insist on taking Maddie home, it is to a house where she seems to be living on her own. From down in the basement they hear footsteps walking around above them. When the door to the basement is suddenly locked, things become dangerous. Someone is very keen to get hold of a valuable item Maddie's father is guarding. So who is the man watching them in the museum, and who is the mysterious Ethan?

e-Book ISBN: 978-1-912529-07-0

also available as a paperback

ISBN: 978-1-912529-06-3

232 pages 5x8 inches

### Mary Jones and Her Bible

An Adventure Book

Chris Wright

The true story of Mary Jones's and her Bible

with a clear Christian message and optional puzzles

(Some are easy, some tricky, and some amusing)

Mary Jones saved for six years to buy a Bible of her own. In 1800, when she was 15, she thought she had saved enough, so she walked barefoot for 26 miles (more than 40km) over a mountain pass and through deep valleys in Wales to get one. That's when she discovered there were none for sale!

You can travel with Mary Jones today in this book by following clues, or just reading the story. Either way, you will get to Bala where Mary went, and if you're really quick you may be able to discover a Bible just like Mary's in the market!

The true story of Mary Jones has captured the imagination for more than 200 years. For this book, Chris Wright has looked into the old records and discovered even more of the story, which is now in this unforgettable account of Mary Jones and her Bible. Solving puzzles is part of the fun, but the whole story is in here to read and enjoy whether you try the puzzles or not. Just turn the page, and the adventure continues. It's time to get on the trail of Mary Jones!

eBook ISBN: ISBN: 978-0-9933941-5-7

Paperback ISBN 978-0-9525956-2-5

5.5 x 8.5 inches

156 pages of story, photographs, line drawings and puzzles

### Pilgrim's Progress

An Adventure Book

Chris Wright

Travel with young Christian as he sets out on a difficult and perilous journey to find the King. Solve the puzzles and riddles along the way, and help Christian reach the Celestial City. Then travel with his friend Christiana. She has four young brothers who can sometimes be a bit of a problem.

Be warned, you will meet giants and lions -- and even dragons! There are people who don't want Christian and Christiana to reach the city of the King and his Son. But not everyone is an enemy. There are plenty of friendly people. It's just a matter of finding them.

Are you prepared to help? Are you sure? The journey can be very dangerous! As with our book Mary Jones and Her Bible, you can enjoy the story even if you don't want to try the puzzles.

This is a simplified and abridged version of Pilgrim's Progress -- Special Edition, containing illustrations and a mix of puzzles. The suggested reading age is up to perhaps ten. Older readers will find the same story told in much greater detail in Pilgrim's Progress -- Special Edition on the next page.

eBook ISBN 13: 978-0-9933941-6-4

Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9525956-6-3

5.5 x 8.5 inches 174 pages

Available from major internet stores

### Pilgrim's Progress

Special Edition

Chris Wright

This book for all ages is a great choice for young readers, as well as for families, Sunday school teachers, and anyone who wants to read John Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress in a clear form.

All the old favourites are here: Christian, Christiana, the Wicket Gate, Interpreter, Hill Difficulty with the lions, the four sisters at the House Beautiful, Vanity Fair, Giant Despair, Faithful and Talkative -- and, of course, Greatheart. The list is almost endless.

The first part of the story is told by Christian himself, as he leaves the City of Destruction to reach the Celestial City, and becomes trapped in the Slough of Despond near the Wicket Gate. On his journey he will encounter lions, giants, and a creature called the Destroyer.

Christiana follows along later, and tells her own story in the second part. Not only does Christiana have to cope with her four young brothers, she worries about whether her clothes are good enough for meeting the King. Will she find the dangers in Vanity Fair that Christian found? Will she be caught by Giant Despair and imprisoned in Doubting Castle? What about the dragon with seven heads?

It's a dangerous journey, but Christian and Christiana both know that the King's Son is with them, helping them through the most difficult parts until they reach the Land of Beulah, and see the Celestial City on the other side of the Dark River. This is a story you will remember for ever, and it's about a journey you can make for yourself.

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9932760-8-8

Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9525956-7-0

5.5 x 8.5 inches 278 pages

Available from major internet stores

### Zephan and the Vision

Chris Wright

An exciting story about the adventures of two angels who seem to know almost nothing -- until they have a vision!

Two ordinary angels are caring for the distant Planet Eltor, and they are about to get a big shock -- they are due to take a trip to Planet Earth! This is Zephan's story of the vision he is given before being allowed to travel with Talora, his companion angel, to help two young people fight against the enemy.

Arriving on Earth, they discover that everyone lives in a small castle. Some castles are strong and built in good positions, while others appear weak and open to attack. But it seems that the best-looking castles are not always the most secure.

Meet Castle Nadia and Castle Max, the two castles that Zephan and Talora have to defend. And meet the nasty creatures who have built shelters for themselves around the back of these castles. And worst of all, meet the shadow angels who live in a cave on Shadow Hill. This is a story about the forces of good and the forces of evil. Who will win the battle for Castle Nadia?

The events in this story are based very loosely on John Bunyan's allegory The Holy War.

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9932760-6-4

Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9525956-9-4

5.5 x 8.5 inches 216 pages

Available from major internet stores

### Agathos, The Rocky Island,

### And Other Stories

Chris Wright

Once upon a time there were two favourite books for Sunday reading: Parables from Nature and Agathos and The Rocky Island.

These books contained short stories, usually with a hidden meaning. In this illustrated book is a selection of the very best of these stories, carefully retold to preserve the feel of the originals, coupled with ease of reading and understanding for today's readers.

Discover the king who sent his servants to trade in a foreign city. The butterfly who thought her eggs would hatch into baby butterflies, and the two boys who decided to explore the forbidden land beyond the castle boundary. The spider that kept being blown in the wind, the soldier who had to fight a dragon, the four children who had to find their way through a dark and dangerous forest. These are just six of the nine stories in this collection. Oh, and there's also one about a rocky island!

This is a book for a young person to read alone, a family or parent to read aloud, Sunday school teachers to read to the class, and even for grownups who want to dip into the fascinating stories of the past all by themselves. Can you discover the hidden meanings? You don't have to wait until Sunday before starting!

eBook ISBN: 978-0-9927642-7-2

Paperback ISBN: 978-0-9525956-8-7

5.5 x 8.5 inches 148 pages

Available from major internet stores

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