chyard. Gray fleet is a damp, aguish, lonely, desolate village, on the verge of the great Essex marshes; and its old church, like a skull with

hey stood in a ring round a flat tombstone, grey with age, and green with slime of moss. On this tombstone a fair little girl of eight, with dishevelled hair and flushed cheeks, was practising the first steps of a dance. H

-heel and toe-

rls to a passer by. 'Come and see Polly Low

ing into the churchyar

e red-haired girl was called. 'You'll soon learn,

-heel and toe-

ally, and the little boy, who was sitting

, the little fair girl-'Madlin,' as the other

-heel and toe-

ied and ran. Only 'Madlin' remained, so absorbed for the time being in her dancing that for a moment she did no

nt. Flushed and panting, she stood and gazed, and

e abandoned, and then, seeing no trace of her comp

, in a terrible voice, 'I don'

ad awkwardly, a

me? What is

, looked straight at the Rector

r, I'm Madlin-Mark

brows came do

an-he lives down at the ferry, and s

swinging by the ribbon in her mouth,

he ai

' asked the Rector

but he isn't a real uncle, nor Uncle Luke neithe

ittle girl indicated the great marshes,

Upon this holy day of all days in the year I find you practising a vicious pastime here, in God's own acre! On a tombstone!

the dead man to arise and confront her; then half unconsciously she edg

really very much afraid that you have been very badly brought up. Tel

at any rate pro

-ne

I mean your adopted father-is he not ashamed of

e little girl flushed, panted, opened her larg

ke! They go to their meeting, and I go too. They're Unite

eth

iated Christianity altogether, but any form of Dissent was worse even than the rankest blasphemy. It is doubtful what turn the interview would have taken, but just at this moment an unexpect

! Here's your Unc

med perplexed, and uncertain what to say next. Just then the gate of the churchyard opened, and a li

! Uncl

d smiled. Then, seeing the Rector

a rather mindless smile, sometimes broadening into a grin. For the rest, he had large wate

his side, holding his hand

rode across t

very wicked child, and she has informed me that her relations belong to some Methodist persuasion. Be th

ilely, then, feeling the smile out of place, tried to frown, but only succeeded in distorting his good-humoured cou

Madlin? What'

ctor; 'and Parson came out and found us, and all the others ran away. I know dancing's wicked, because Uncle Mark says

ittle man still more. He scratched his h

t wicked,' he said,

d enough to leave the precincts of the church. The child is a bad child, and has been badly trained. There, there, hold your tongue-I

e gate sharply upon them, and stalked away to the Rector

e. Then he quietly put on his hat, and, conscious of the little hand within his own, looked down at his compani

icked, that's a fact;' and he added, with a perplexed look, as if co

moments, then, as if struck by a

Uncle Luke-le

nd in hand, the two hurried down the descent leading from the church to the outskirts of the village. As they went along, Madeline peeped up

le L

, Ma

Uncle Mark abo

dancing be dow

rls can dance a bit. And if you won't say a word to Uncle Mark, I'll let you

ned from ear to ear, but he pretended to shake his head from side to side in solemn deprecation of the bribe. Madeline watched him keenly, and just as he seeme

Madlin, I

but she continued to play with and fondle his hand, and now and then to hold it to her lips. Confidence of this sort was what the littl