child Abel's returning to his exercises. As this is a holiday, I
thought--"

"Come with me," interrupted Grace, "come with me, father, and we will
make a rare holiday."

She hurried the feeble old man along the road leading to the rectory,
but returned no answer to his inquiries. The servant told her, when she
arrived at her destination, that his master was engaged--particularly
engaged--could not be disturbed--Sir Thomas Purcel was with him; and, as
the man spoke, the study-door opened, and Sir Thomas crossed the hall.

"Come back with me, sir," exclaimed Grace Huntley, eagerly: "I can tell
you all you want to know."

The Baronet shook off the hand she had laid upon his arm as if she were
a maniac.

Grace appeared to read the expression of his countenance. "I am not mad,
Sir Thomas Purcel," she continued, in a suppressed tremulous voice; "not
mad, though I may be so soon. Keep back these people, and return with
me. Mr. Glasscott knows I am not mad."

She passed into the study with a resolute step, and held the door for
Sir Thomas to enter. Her father followed also, as a child traces its
mother's footsteps, and looked around him, and at his daughter, with
weak astonishment. One or two of the servants, who were loitering in
the hall, moved as if they would have followed.

"Back, back, I say!" she repeated; "I need no witnesses--there will be