The Lost Angel

wrought many cures, procured many favours. It was the patron of the village. Alas, it is five years ago since, during the week of the patronage, the chapel had been robbed, stripped bare. And with everything else had gone the little angel. There had been bad seasons since, storms at sea. The people were desolated for the little angel. While he was with them he procured them many graces."

"If he were to be restored!" Waring was excited with the prospective excitement of the village at the restoration of its angel.

"If it were the will of God!" The cure shrugged his shoulders and flung out his hands. Plainly he expected no miracle.

* * *

So after all the little angel went back to his shrine amid the sand-hills, between the corn-fields and the sea, where he yet works his beneficent miracles. And Wolvercote was the poorer. Waring had the little angel copied in yellow Italian marble and gave the copy the shrine he would have given the original. But it is not the same thing. It is as a