Meanwhile, Mrs. Manning could not help feeling anxious, about her prospects of a house.

"Have you heard of any house, Mr. Taylor?" she asked.

The hermit smiled.

"Don't be troubled, Mrs. Manning," he said; "when you leave this house you will find another one to move into."

Mrs. Manning was silenced, but still disquieted. She was even tempted to wonder whether old Anthony was really quite right in his mind. But there was nothing to be done. She could only wait, patiently.

The next day Mark arrived with little Jack. He was looking unusually well, his journey having given him a healthy color, and added to his flesh. Jack was still thin and pale, but was beginning to look better than when under Peggy's care.

The hermit was much moved, as he took the boy in his arms and kissed him.

The hermit was much moved, as he took the boy in his arms and kissed him.

"I can see my daughter's looks in you, Jack," he said. "I fear your life has been a sad one, poor child. It shall be my task to repay you for the hardships you have had to meet in your short life."

Little Jack seemed to take instinctively to the rough-looking but, kind-hearted old man. The poor match boy seemed to have drifted into a haven of rest.

"Shall I ever have to go back to Peggy?" he asked.

"Never, my child. This good lady," indicating Mrs. Manning, "will supply the place of your own mother."

"I will sell matches for you, if you want me to, grandfather. I didn't like working for Peggy, but I will work for you."

"My dear Jack, instead of working you must go to school, and learn all you can. When you are grown up, it will be time for you to work."

It soon became noised about that the little boy, who was seen about the village with Mark, was the hermit's grandson. But the grandson of old Anthony was not considered a very important person, and only excited passing interest.

Mark was let into the secret of the new home to which Mr. Taylor proposed to move, and he was naturally pleased to think that his mother's condition was to be so much improved.

Nothing had leaked out in the village, however, about the contemplated removal.

The week was nearly ended when Mark happened to meet James Collins in the street. James had been informed by his father that Mrs. Manning had received notice to leave the cottage, and it gratified his dislike of Mark. What puzzled him was, Mark's apparent indifference and evident good spirits.

"Perhaps he thinks my father will relent, and let him stay, but he'll find himself mistaken as I shall let him know when I get a chance."

The chance came that very day.

"Hallo!" said James, as Mark was about to pass him.

"Hallo!" responded Mark smiling.

"I hear you've got to move."

"So I hear."

"It's high time you were finding a new house."

"I think so myself, but that's my mother's business."

"You needn't think my father will let you stay where you are."

"Don't you think he would let us stay a month longer?"

"No, I don't."

"He wouldn't put us out in the street, would he?"

"Look here, Mark Manning, I see what you are at. You want to impose on my father's good nature. I shall warn him of your plan."

"Just as you please, James."

The result was that Squire Collins, sharing to some extent his son's apprehensions, made a call that same evening at the cottage. All the family were at home.

After the usual greetings were over, the squire said:

"I suppose, Mrs. Manning, you will be ready to move on Saturday?"

"Suppose my mother can't get a house," suggested Mark.

"She must find a house," said the squire, severely. "She has had time enough to find one. You mustn't blame me if I say that move you must on Saturday."

"You need have no anxiety, Squire Collins," said Mrs. Manning, with dignity. "I intend to move on that day."

"And where, may I ask?" inquired the squire, with curiosity.

"We move into the Beach house," answered Mark, his eyes fixed wit............