Mr. Cunningham did not draw himself away from the detaining clasp, but he said gravely, 'I quite believe that Cecil does not think he has been so very idle, but he admits that he has not done his best, and I hope in a little while he will see all his fault, and be sorry for it. Don't let him talk to you any more to-night.' 'But don't you think there may have been some mistake?' 'No, indeed,' he answered in a surprised tone, which showed that no such supposition had ever entered his head. Then, as she still lingered, he stooped to kiss her, and said kindly, 'Don't try to comfort Cecil with such an idea as that, my child, but see if you can encourage him to do his best for the future.' 'And--father,' she said timidly, 'is he really only to have a week's holiday?' 'Yes,' said Mr. Cunningham in his most decided tone; then more gently he added, 'I am afraid that is punishing you as well as him, but it can't be helped; and as he is only going to a day school, you will not lose him entirely.' Remembering the adjectives Cecil had heaped upon the day school, Jessie could not feel this to be quite consolatory; but she only said 'Good-night, father,' and held up her face for another kiss, which was given very tenderly. Poor little girl! there was a great deal of grief and perplexity in her heart that night; but the comfort was, that though she so pitied Cecil, she did not distrust the goodness of either the heavenly or the earthly father. She could not see the why and wherefore of it all; but when she had said her prayers, she laid herself down to sleep trustfully and patiently, while Cecil was tossing and tumbling about, feeling as if everybody except Jessie were against him. [Illustration] CHAPTER II. A BACHELOR'S LUNCH. THE bells were ringing for Sunday Morning Prayer at Wilbourne Church, and the congregation was pouring in at the large west door, and the choir boys taking the little path towards the vestry, when Mr. Yorke, the tall curate, opened the small side gate, which was his nearest entrance to the churchyard. He was passing quickly along, when he caught sight of a boy leaning over the paling a little beyond the gate, in rather a disconsolate attitude; and first he paused for a minute, and then struck across the grass and laid his hand kindly on the boy's shoulder. 'Come in with me, Cecil,' he said in his most cheery tone--knowing that the lad usually formed one of the choir when at home, and thinking that his ill success at school had made him shy of facing the other choristers, who probably knew all about it by this time. 'No, I mustn't,' said Cecil, turning round abruptly and colouring very much. Mr. Yorke was surprised, and showed it. Knowing that Cecil's general conduct at school had been very good, he had not thought that exclusion from the choir would have formed part of his punishment.