_He had died from the running at Hare and Hounds._ The violent exercise had been too much for the heart. We heard later that the French family doctor had suspected the heart was not quite sound; and that was the reason of Monsieur Rheyn's written restrictions on the score of violent exercise. But, as Dr. Frost angrily observed, why did the father not distinctly warn him against that special danger: how was it to be suspected in a lad of hearty and healthy appearance? Monsieur Van Rheyn came over, and took what remained of Charles back to Rouen, to be laid beside his late wife. It was a great blow to him to lose his only son. And all the property went away from the Van Rheyn family to Mrs. Scott in India. The school went into a state that night, when we got in from the coppice, and I gave them Van Rheyn's message. They knew something was up with him, but never suspected it could be death. "I say, though," cried Harry Parker, in a great access of remorse, speaking up amidst the general consternation, "we would never have worried him had we foreseen this. Poor Van Rheyn!" And I have his gold cross by me this day. Sometimes, when looking at it, a fancy comes over me that he, looking down from heaven, sees it too. VIII. MRS. TODHETLEY'S EARRINGS. Again we had been spending the Christmas at Crabb Cot. It was January weather, cold and bright, the sun above and the white snow on the ground. Mrs. Todhetley had been over to Timberdale Court, to the christening of Robert and Jane Ashton's baby: a year had gone by since their marriage. The mater went to represent Mrs. Coney, who was godmother. Jane was not strong enough to sit out a christening dinner, and that was to be given later. After some mid-day feasting, the party dispersed. I went out to help Mrs. Todhetley from the carriage when she got back. The Squire was at Pershore for the day. It was only three o'clock, and the sun quite warm in spite of the snow. "It is so fine, Johnny, that I think I'll walk to the school," she said, as she stepped down. "It may not be like this to-morrow, and I must see about those shirts." The parish school was making Tod a set of new shirts; and some bother had arisen about them. Orders had been given for large plaits in front, when Tod suddenly announced that he would have the plaits small. "Only---- Can I go as I am?" cried Mrs. Todhetley, suddenly stopping in indecision, as she remembered her fine clothes: a silver-grey gown that shone like silver, white shawl of china crape, and be-feathered bonnet. "Why, yes, of course you can go as you are, good mother. And look all the nicer for it." "I fear the children will stare! But then--if the shirts get made wrong! Well, will you go with me, Johnny?"