Two maids put the supper on the table, and Mrs. Vale helped them; for Sanker had summoned courage to say it was late for us to stop. About a dozen things. Cold ducks, and ham, collared-head, a big dish of custard, and fruit and cake. I couldn't have swallowed a morsel; the lump rising in my throat would have hindered it. I don't think Sanker could, for he said resolutely we must not sit down because of Dr. Frost. "How is Harry?" asked Mrs. Vale. "Oh, he is--very well," said Sanker, after waiting to see if I'd answer. "Have you seen him lately?" "Not since last Sunday week, when he and young Snepp spent the day here. He was looking well, and seemed in spirits. It was rather a hazard, sending him to school at all; Mr. Vale wanted to have him taught at home, as he has been until this year. But I think it is turning out for the best." "He gets frightened, does he not?" said Sanker, who knew what she meant. "He did," replied Mrs. Vale; "but he is growing out of it. Never was a braver little child born than he; but when he was four years old, he strolled away from his nurse into a field where a bull was grazing, a savage animal. What exactly happened, we never knew; that Harry was chased across the field by it was certain, and then tossed. The chief injury was to the nerves, strange though that may seem in so young a child. For a long time afterwards, the least alarm would put him into a state of terrible fear, almost a fit. But he is getting over it now." She told this for my benefit; just as if she had divined the night's work; Sanker knew it before. I felt sick with remorse as I listened--and Tod had called him a coward! Let us get away. "I wish you could stay, my lads," cried Mr. Vale; "it vexes me to turn you out supperless. What's this, Charlotte? Ah yes, to be sure! I wish you could put up the whole table for them." For Mrs. Vale had been putting up some tartlets, and gave us each a packet of them. "Eat them as you go along," she said. "And give my love to Harry." "And tell him that he must bring you both on Sunday, to spend the day," added Mr. Vale. "Perhaps young Mr. Todhetley will come also. You might have breakfast, and go with us to church. I'll write to Dr. Frost." Outside at last; I and my shame. These good, simple-hearted people--oh, had we indeed, between us, made them childless? "Young Mr. Todhetley," waiting amid the stubble in the outer field, came springing up to the fence, his face white in the light of the hunter's moon. "What a long while you have been! Well?" "Nothing," said Sanker, briefly. "No news! I don't think we've been much above five minutes." What a walk home it was! Mr. Blair, the out-of-school master, came down upon us with his thunder, but Tod seemed never to hear him. The boys, hushed and quiet as nature is before an impending storm, had not dared to tell and provoke it. I could not see Lacketer.