I've got a poor, suffering, bedridden wife at home, who would think such a companion as little Mary the greatest blessing God could send her.

My own dear, patient Lavvie! Oh, doctor, doctor! think how kind Lavvie would be to that afflicted little child; and try if you can't make Mrs.Peckover consent.

I can't speak any more--I know I'm wrong to burst out in this way; and I beg all your pardons for it, I do indeed! Speak to her, doctor--pray speak to her directly, if you don't want to make me miserable for the rest of my life!" With those words, Valentine darted precipitately into the garden, and made straight for the spot where the little girls were still sitting together in their shady resting-place among the trees..