or she dreaded more
questions from the children, but as to spending a "quiet" day at home,
that was not possible. It never would be possible any more, she
thought, for now she had to consider and contrive how to get her money
to the appointed place at six o'clock that evening. She knew the spot
well, it was only a little distance beyond the White House. Just where
the four roads met there stood a sign-post; near this was a large old
oak-tree, and at its foot a broad flat stone with a hollow under one
side. It was there she had to put her money, but how to get it there
without observation?

Her mind was so full of this as the day went on that everything else
seemed like a sort of dream; she heard Mrs Vallance talking to her, and
answered, but so absently that her mother looked at her in surprise.
"She is certainly very much over-tired," she said to herself; "I always
knew that Maskells was not a place for the children, and I shall tell
Mrs Chelwood so."

Meanwhile the dreaded hour drew nearer and nearer, the bell was ringing
for evening service, and Mr Vallance came out of his study and put on
his wide-awake.

"Would you rather not go to church this evening, Mary?" said Mrs
Vallance.

"My head aches," answered Mary. "If they will only go without me," she
said to herself, "I can do it."

"Very well, darling," said kind Mrs Vallance; "I will stay with you,
and we will go on with that nice book you like so much."

Mary's face became as red as it had been white a moment ago.

"Oh, no," she stammered; "I'd rather be alone. May I go and lie down on
my bed until you come back?"

What a strange request from the ever-active Mary!

"Do as you like, dear," said Mrs Vallance, and as she left the house
she added to her husband, "I hope the child's not going to be ill, she
looks so dull, and flushes up so."

Mary listened until she heard the click of the garden gate, then she
sprang up from her bed, wrapped all her money in a piece of paper and
put it in her pocket. She looked at the clock, in five minutes they
would be in church, then she would start, and if she ran all the way she
would be in time.

Concealment was so new to her that she felt as though she were doing
something very wicked as she ran quickly along the familiar road; she
met no one, but every rustle in the hedge, every innocent sound, made
her start and tremble, and when in the distance she saw the tall
sign-post standing there with outstretched