"The thing can be righted," she answered, "and for that matter I did right it with my own hand; but the fault that committed the thing goes far deeper. It was in the parlour, where I sat with Mrs. Bullstone. And a very nice room too. And on a shelf lay the family Bible and upon it somebody had set another book!" "Dear, dear," replied Mr. Huxam, displaying more concern than, as a reasonable being, he felt. "That's bad! You never did ought to put any other printed word on a Bible, of course." "It's hard to think of a live Christian doing so. But he'd laid down a dog book on God's Word; and it went through me like a knife." "It would; it would," murmured Barlow. "I took it off before the man's mother. I said no word, but just took it off and put it aside and looked at her. She didn't seem to understand. I'll tell Margery on Sunday." "More thoughtlessness than wickedness, I'm sure," ventured Mr. Huxam; but she continued to take a serious view. "A man of thirty-five has no excuse for thoughtlessness," she answered. "It was indifference, and that makes it a very serious thing." Meantime Jacob and Margery wandered till the stars sent them homeward. They assured each other that all had gone very well, and the girl declared how she had never seen her mother so bright, cheerful, or talkative. CHAPTER II ON UGBOROUGH BEACON There came an August morning when Margery and Jacob made holiday and left Red House after breakfast to climb a famous hill some few miles distant. Bullstone designed to visit his two farms, which extended their acres and lifted their homesteads upon the way; and they started, after an early breakfast, with two of the red terriers for company. The road ran west and brought them through ferny lanes, that twined like a necklace beneath the border heights of the moor; while strung upon them at intervals stood farmhouses in coomb and hollow, where streams from aloft descended to the vale. Round each dwelling spread orchard and meadow and dark tilth; behind them heaved the grey hills, now brushed with the light of the ling. Bullstone Farm, the ancient abode of Jacob's family, first appeared, and he spoke to his companion concerning the name. "We were called Bullhornstone once," he said, "and on the old graves at Ugborough village you can see slates dating back far more than a hundred years under that name. But I suppose some busy forefather of mine found it was too much of a mouthful and dropped the 'horn.' And he dropped his luck at the same time. My grandfather, who died here, called himself 'Bullstone,' and there's a very good tomb to him and my grandmother at Ugborough that I'll show you some day. The family's nearly petered out. I am an only son; but I've got cousins in America--in Kentucky--heard from one not six months ago." Margery was interested by one detail of this narrative. "How did your forbear drop his luck?" she asked.