ver my soul from the sword; my darling from the power of the dog.

His father's eyes flickered for a moment and fixed themselves on Timmy
with a worried, disturbed expression. As a child he himself would have
been sternly reproved for reading, even the Bible, during a sermon, but
he supposed that Janet knew better than his own mother had done. Timmy
certainly loved Janet far, far more than he, John Tosswill, had loved his
own good mother. So he averted his eyes from his little son, and tried to
forget all about him.

But John Tosswill did not know his Janet. Though three off from
Timmy, she had become aware that her son was bending over a very big,
shabby-looking book, instead of sitting upright, listening sedately. She
gave him one glance, and Timmy, with a rather confused and guilty look,
hurriedly shut Nanna's Bible, and turned his mind to the sermon. He had
seen what he wanted to see; and further, he had made a mental note of the
page and place.

At last the service was over, and the congregation streamed out of
church. Timmy hung back a little, behind his mother. He did not wish
her to see that he had Nanna's Bible instead of his own, but she was
far too full of her own exciting and anxious thoughts to give any
attention to her little boy. Rather to her surprise, she found her mind
dwelling persistently on Enid Crofton. It was at once a relief and a
disappointment not to see the young widow's graceful figure, and her
heart ached when she saw the cloud come down over Jack's face.

All at once she felt a detaining gesture on her arm, and turning, she
found Miss Pendarth at her elbow. They generally had a little talk after
church, for it was often the only time in the week when these two, both
in their several ways busy women, felt that they had a few minutes to
spare for gossip.

"I wonder if you could come in to Rose Cottage for a minute? I want to
show you something which I think will interest you as much as it has me."

Neither of them noticed that Timmy had crept up quite close and was
listening eagerly. In a village community the gossip holds a place apart,
and Olivia Pendarth, though by no means popular with the young people of
Old Place, nevertheless had her value as the source of many thrilling
tales.

Janet Tosswill hesitated. "I wish I could come back with you," she said
at last, regretfully. "But I promised to go straight home this morning."

She debated within herself whether she should say anythi