I only wish from the bottom of my heart that I could do something to help her and make her happy.

If Lavvie and I had had such an angel of a child as that," continued Valentine, clasping his hands together fervently, "deaf and dumb as she is, we should have thanked God for her every day of our lives!" Mrs.Peckover was apparently not much used to hear such sentiments as these from strangers.

She stared up at Mr.Blyth with two big tears rolling over her plump cheeks.
"Mrs.Peckover! Hullo there, Peck! where are you ?" roared a stern voice from the stable department of the circus, just as the clown's wife seemed about to speak again.
Mrs.Peckover started, curtsied, and, without uttering another word, went back even faster than she had come out.

Valentine looked after her intently, but made no attempt to follow: he was thinking too much of the child to think of that.

When he moved again, it was to return to the rectory.
He penetrated at once into the library, where Doctor Joyce was spelling over the "Rubbleford Mercury," while Mrs.Joyce sat opposite to him, knitting a fancy jacket for her youngest but one.