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at least to find her crying. But only the slightest indication of a tear showed itself in Elizabeth's blue eyes, and there was even something approaching to a smile on her lips.

"Ah! she's none so soft, is 'Lizbeth," he thought to himself; "she sees through the jade at last."

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Sit down, Margaret," she said, calmly, putting a chair by the trembling, half-frantic girl. Uncle," she added, " as you are late for market, we won't ask you to stay to breakfast this morning."

Mr Transom stared at his niece, and his eyebrows knitted and bristled. Surely 'Lizbeth was not going to make a fool of herself after all!

"'Lizbeth," said he, going close to her and speaking in an angry, suppressed voice, “I tell you plainly, unless this woman leaves your house instantly you may take the entire management of your affairs in your own hands, for I wash mine of them."

"That will be a great pity, uncle, as everybody says how well you manage them for me. But what must be, must be. We will talk of that another time. For the present, I must beg you to leave us, as my poor invalid has been much shaken, and needs quietness and peace, which she shall have while Elizabeth Vandereck has the means to her hand."

"And this is your parting with me, is it, 'Lizbeth? This is all you have to say to me?" Mr Transom had one hand on the crown of his hat and the other on the door-latch.

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Except this, uncle," said Elizabeth. "You can tell Mr Flip he has lost a walk with the sweetest and noblest of women.

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As she turned back, Elizabeth met Margaret, who fell on her neck, and the two women kissed each other and underwent a species of hysteria before they could get their own breakfast or give the children theirs.

CHAPTER IX.

THE MISSING VOICE IN THE CHOIR IS HEARD

ONCE MORE.

FOR a week or so Elizabeth Vandereck's friendship filled and satisfied Margaret's heart; but by and by the old wound, so tenderly covered, but never healed, began to bleed again.

As they sat down to their cheerful little meals a trembling would seize poor Margaret's hands, tears would well up in her eyes.

"Why, sister, what now?" Elizabeth would say-she always called her by that name when Margaret seemed sad.

"Oh! mercy on me, 'Lizbeth!

Where might I have been for what they care? Where might I have been but for you ?"

"Ah laws! this world! if folks have nothing to fret 'em in the present, they must always go

looking and grizzling over what might have been."

"But, 'Lizbeth, 'Lizbeth! one's father and one's mother!"

Elizabeth would answer nothing; but when she dusted her sacred little table she would leave the Bible open at a page containing a Divine answer to the cry of Margaret's heart.

One Saturday evening, after Margaret had been suffering in silence many hours, she suddenly looked up from her work.

"'Lizbeth," said she, "will you lend me your Sunday gown to-morrow?"

Elizabeth looked quite pleased.

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Why, Margaret, you will do finely in it: and, do you know, you could not have asked me at a more convenient time, for, as it happens, the Reverend Mr Straightways preaches in our chapel to-morrow, and he always has a slap at finery; and yet, rather than leave it in the cupboard unaired for a whole fortnight, I might

have been tempted to put it on.

Ah laws! this

world! the pomps and the vanities! Will you have the black lace on it as it is?"

"How little curiosity you have, 'Lizbeth! Don't you wonder where I am going?"

"Of course I do."

"Well, then," answered Margaret, flinching a little in her voice, but looking straight at Elizabeth with a pale, firm face, "I am going to Wrexham Church."

Elizabeth's blue eyes looked her through and through. Margaret looked back into hers, unfalteringly, though mournfully; and they understood one another as well as if they had spoken. Elizabeth's gaze had said, "Canst thou?" and Margaret had answered, "I can."

"Speed ye well, Margaret!" said Elizabeth Vandereck; "the pure of heart are always brave."

"I was one of the choir," said Margaret. "I will go to my place and sing as I used to do.

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