t did not press him for any such
acknowledgment. He believed that it would come in time, and was quite
content to take his present good conduct as a sign of penitence. 'He
would not bear his punishment so well if he were not really sorry for
his fault,' he said to himself.

'You are not angry with Cecil now, father, are you?' said Jessie softly
the next morning, as they stood watching him trudge down the gravel path
towards the gate on his way to school.

'No; very much pleased in some ways,' he answered. 'How late the post is
this morning! I'm afraid old Hawkins is stopping for a long chat with
Mrs. Giles. Just run down the lane and see; and if there is any letter
for me, bring it at once to my study. I have to go out in five minutes.'

Jessie was running off directly, with her long hair streaming in the
wind, when her mother called to her to put something on; and she came
back, snatched her garden-hat and holland cape from their peg, and flew
away again. Yes, the old postman was standing gossiping with Mrs. Giles
at her garden gate, just as Mr. Cunningham had foreseen. When Jessie
breathlessly inquired if there were any letters for the Rectory, the old
man answered composedly, 'Yes, Missy, three letters for your house--two
for your reverend father, and one for Miss Mary. Shall I take 'em round,
or shall I give 'em to you?'

'Oh, I'll take them, please,' said Jessie; and back she flew with them,
and straight into the study she went, holding out the two that belonged
to Mr. Cunningham.

'Thanks. This is the one I wanted, from your Uncle Percy,' he said as he
took them from her; 'and this is from Dr. Lomax. What makes him write
again, I wonder?'

'Oh, father, do open it, please!' said Jessie excitedly, a sudden hope
springing up in her breast.

'My child, what can there be in it to signify? It is an account for some
schoolbooks, perhaps,' said Mr. Cunningham, rather as if he thought her
a very silly little girl. But when he looked up and saw her eager,
quivering face, he added, with a smile, 'Well, to set your mind at rest,
I will just take a glance.'

He opened the letter as he spoke, but it was much more than a glance
which he gave it. A minute passed, two minutes, three, and still he read
on and did not speak. Jessie never took her eyes off his face; hope and
fear struggled together in her heart, and hope was uppermost. But for
the gravity of her father's silence, she would have felt sure that all
was coming