"To be sure," said Mrs. Ascott. "I assure you I will speak to my husband." She got up to take her leave, a little frightened by the vehemence of the stranger, and rather elated at the same time by the sense of having a mission. Miss Maydew went with her to the very door. "At once," she said, "at once! It is a fortnight already since the rector died. If the parish means to do anything, you should not lose a day." "No: I see, I see! I will go at once and speak to my husband," cried the visitor, escaping hastily. Miss Maydew returned to her seat breathing a sigh of satisfaction. "There, girls! I have set it agoing at least. I have started it. That was a nice woman--if she exerts herself, I don't doubt that it will be all right. What a blessing she came while I was here." "I hope it is all right," said Cicely doubtfully; "but she is not very----not very, _very_ sensible, you know. But she is always kind. I hope she will not do anything foolish. Is that papa she is talking to?" cried the girl alarmed, for there were sounds of commotion in the hall. A silence fell upon even the chief conspirator, when she felt that Mr. St. John was near--the possibility that her tactics might not be quite satisfactory alarmed her. She withdrew into a corner, instinctively getting the girls and a considerable mass of furniture between herself and any one coming in at the door. "I do not know what Mrs. Ascott is talking of," said the curate. "Is tea ready, my dear, for I have a great deal to do? What have you been putting into that good woman's head? She is talking of a petition, and of the Lord Chancellor, and of bad news. I hope you are not a politician, Cicely. What is it all about?" "Here is Aunt Jane, papa," said Cicely, who was not more comfortable than Miss Maydew. And the old lady had to get up and stretch out her hand to Mr. St. John over the sofa, which was her bulwark in chief. "But I wonder what she meant about bad news," he went on; "she seemed to think it affected us. My dears, have you heard anything?" "Oh, papa, very bad news," said Cicely with tears in her eyes. "It is in the paper. Mrs. Ascott has seen it, and that is what we were talking about. Oh, dear papa, don't be cast down. Perhaps it may not be so bad as we think. Something may be done; or at the very worst we are both able and willing to work--Mab and I." "I don't know what you mean," said Mr. St. John, and he read the announcement without much change of countenance. "Dear me, so he is gone at last!" he said. "I have long expected this. His health has been getting worse and worse for years. Poor Chester! has he really gone at last? I remember him at college. He was a year younger than I, but always sickly. Poor fellow! and he was a great deal better off than I am, but never got the good of it. What a lesson it is, my dears!"