Her arm stole round his neck, and her cheek was pressed more closely against his.

Mrs.Nixey's hard face softened a little as she looked at them; but she could not help thinking of the new turn affairs were taking.

If old Marlowe died, it might be more convenient, on the whole, than for her to marry him.

How snugly she could live up here, with a cow or two, and a little maid from the workhouse to be her companion and drudge! Quite unconscious of Mrs.Nixey's plans, Phebe had drawn the old black leather Bible toward her, turning over the stained and yellow leaves with one hand, for she would not withdraw her arm from her father's neck.

She did not know exactly where to find the words she wanted; but at last she came upon them.