and _she_ had just gone to the post, and
all this dreadful thing would come of it. Dorothy had always thought
Dick was such a bad boy and she was so good, and now it seemed all the
other way. She was _father's_ girl, too, and father was always down on
Dick, yet--her eyes filled when she thought of it--Dick was loyal, and
had called her a little brute, and mother said it was worst of all for
father.

She knelt down by her bed. Until to-night Dorothy had never really felt
she needed Jesus as a friend, though she sometimes thought she loved
Him. Now it seemed as if she _must_ tell some one, and she wanted Him
very, very badly. So she knelt and prayed, and though she cried nearly
all the time she felt much happier when she got up.

"I am so selfish. I am so sorry. Please help me!" was the burden of poor
Dollie's prayer, but she got into bed feeling as if Jesus had
understood, and fell asleep quite calmly.

In the morning Dorothy awoke early. It was scarcely light. It was the
first time in her life she had woke to sorrow, and it seemed very
dreadful. Yet Dorothy felt humble this morning, and not helpless as she
had done last night. She felt as if Someone, much stronger than
herself, was going to stand by her and help her through.

[Sidenote: Dorothy's Project]

Lying there thinking, many things seemed plain to her that she had not
understood before, and a thought came into her head. It was _her_ fault,
and she was the one who should suffer; not father, nor mother, nor Dick.
It would not be easy, for Dorothy did not like Miss Addiscombe, and she
was afraid of her, but she must go to her.

Directly the thought came into her head Dorothy was out of bed and
beginning to dress. And that mysterious clock which she had never heard
before was just striking five when she stole like a little white ghost
downstairs, carrying her shoes in her hand, and unbolting the side door,
slipped out into a strange world which was still fast asleep.

Miss Addiscombe lived ten miles away, but Dorothy did not remember
anything about that. All her thought was to get there as soon as
possible. One thing, she knew the way, for the flower-show was held in
her grounds every year, and Dorothy had always been driven there. It was
a nearly straight road.

* * * * *

About ten o'clock that morning a gentleman was driving along the
high-road when he suddenly pulled up his horse and threw the reins to
the groom. It had