shed across
her brain. What if he were Mrs. Shaw's husband? He might have come just
to see the place his wife lived in and the sort of people she worked
for. Feeling sure that she would not forgive him, perhaps he would not
try to see her, not knowing how her feelings towards him had changed.
Marjory sat up in bed, her heart beating fast as in imagination she
traced out this theory. The longer she thought about it the more sure
she felt that it was the right one. It would explain the man's piteous
grief and his bitter cry that nothing could ever help him. What was to
be done?

It did not take her long to decide that she would go to Hillcrest
village the next day, see the man, and boldly ask if he were Mr. Shaw;
and then, if her theory proved correct, she would tell him what she
knew--namely, that his wife had determined to write and ask him to come
home. How she would love to play the good fairy to these people, and to
see them happy after all their troubles!

Then her thoughts turned to her own affairs. She never ceased to long
for her father, although her life was much brighter and happier than it
used to be. Night and morning she prayed that he might be given to her.
She would lie awake picturing their happy meeting, and sometimes the
visions that she conjured up in the night were so lifelike that she
would wake in the morning almost expecting them to prove realities. But
the days and weeks went by, and nothing happened to bring any nearer
that longed-for day when he should come.

Next morning Marjory signalled to Blanche that she would like to ride
with her, and the answer came that she would be ready at eleven. Marjory
asked Peter to saddle Brownie early, so that she would have time to go
to Hillcrest before calling at Braeside.

Arrived at the village, she rode up to the post office, as being the
most likely place at which to gain information with regard to a
stranger, and asked the woman if she knew of any one lodging in
Hillcrest. "Yes," was the reply; "there was a man staying at 'English
Mary's' down the street."

Arrived at "English Mary's," Marjory made her inquiries.

"Yes, miss," replied the woman, "I did 'ave a lodger 'ere yesterday, but
'e up an' went this mornin' bright and early. Most respectable 'e
seemed, miss; but 'e come in last night in a orful pickle, 'is clothes
torn an' 'is face bleedin'; you never saw sich a sight as 'e was, miss.
I was glad to get rid on 'im; the p'lice would 'ave bin t