what. Her eye caught on a bee entering a deep- belled flower: when that bee flew forth with his spoil she would begin—that should be the sign. Out he came.
"Mamma! Papa is going to leave Helstone!" she blurted forth. "He's going to leave the Church, and live in Milton-Northern." There were the three hard facts hardly spoken.
"What makes you say so?" asked Mrs. Hale, in a surprised incredulous voice. "Who has been telling you such nonsense?"
"Papa himself," said Margaret, longing to say something gentle and consoling, but literally not knowing how. They were close to a garden- bench. Mrs. Hale sat down, and began to cry.
"I don't understand you," she said. "Either you have made some great mistake, or I don't quite understand you."
"No, mother, I have made no mistake. Papa has written to the bishop, saying that he has such doubts that he cannot conscientiously remain a priest of the Church of England, and that he must give up Helstone. He has also consulted Mr. Bell—Frederick's godfather, you know, mamma; and it is arranged that we go to live in Milton-Northern." Mrs. Hale looked up in Margaret's face all the time she was speaking these words: the shadow on her countenance told that she, at least, believed in the truth of what she said.
"I don't think it can be true," said Mrs. Hale, at length. "He would surely have told me before it came to this."
It came strongly upon Margaret's mind that her
