think I'm going to stay with her; and at night, when
she's asleep, I'll creep off, I and the other dog. But I'll leave a
letter for her: it will soothe her, and she'll be patient and wait. I
will come back again to see her in a week, and once every week, till
she's well again."

"And what will you do?"

"I don't know; but," said the actor, forcing a laugh, "I 'm not a man
likely to starve. Oh, never fear, sir."

So the Mayor went away, and strolled across the fields to his bailiff's
cottage, to prepare for the guest it would receive. "It is all very well
that the poor man should be away for some days," thought Mr. Hartopp.
"Before he comes again, I shall have hit on some plan to serve him; and
I can learn more about him from the child in his absence, and see what
he is really fit for. There's a schoolmaster wanted in Morley's village.
Old Morley wrote to me to recommend him one. Good salary,--pretty
house. But it would be wrong to set over young children--recommend to a
respectable proprietor and his parson--a man whom I know nothing about.
Impossible! that will not do. If there was any place of light service
which did not require trust or responsibility,--but there is no such
place in Great Britain. Suppose I were to set him up in some easy way of
business,--a little shop, eh? I don't know. What would Williams say?
If, indeed, I were taken in! if the man I am thus credulously trusting
turned out a rogue,"--the Mayor paused and actually shivered at that
thought,--"why then, I should be fallen indeed. My wife would not let me
have half-a-crown in my pockets; and I could, not walk a hundred yards
but Williams would be at my heels to protect me from being stolen
by gypsies. Taken in by him! No, impossible! But if it turn out as I
suspect,--that, contrary to vulgar prudence, I am divining a really
great and good man in difficulties, aha, what a triumph I shall then
gain over them all! How Williams will revere me!" The good man laughed
aloud at that thought, and walked on with a prouder step.

CHAPTER, XXIII.

A pretty trifle in its way, no doubt, is the love between youth and
youth,--gay varieties of the bauble spread the counter of the great
toy-shop; but thou, courteous dame Nature, raise thine arm to yon
shelf, somewhat out of every-day reach, and bring me down that
obsolete, neglected, unconsidered thing, the love between age and
childhood.

The next day Sophy was better; the day after, im