But his face brightened and his smile was cheerful, as he began to talk eagerly with his fingers, throwing in many gestures to aid his slow speech.

Phebe, too, smiled and gesticulated in silent answer, before she told him her errand.
"The carving is finished, father," she said.

"Could we not start at once, and be at Upchurch before five to-morrow morning ?" "Twenty miles; eight hours; easily," he answered; "but why ?" "To help Mr.Sefton," she said.

"He wants to get down to Southampton, and Upchurch is in the way.

Father, it must be done; you would never see a smile upon my face again if we did not do it." The keen, wistful eyes of her father were fastened alternately upon her troubled face and her moving hands, as slowly and silently she spelt out on her fingers the sad story she had just listened to.