He lost no time when he got back to Old Chester in putting his plan through. The very next afternoon, knowing that Johnny would be at Doctor Lavendar's Collect Class, he called on Miss Lydia. Miss Sampson's little house was more comfortable than it used to be; the quarterly check which came from "some one" patched up leaky roofs, and bought a new carpet, and did one or two other things; but it did not procure any luxuries, either for Johnny or for herself, and it never made Miss Lydia look like anything but a small, bedraggled bird; her black frizette still got crooked and dipped over one soft blue eye, and she was generally shabby--except on the rare occasions when she wore the blue silk--and her parlor always looked as if a wind had blown through it. "I wouldn't _touch_ their money for myself!" she used to think, and saved every cent to give to Johnny when he grew up. Into her helter-skelter house came, on this Saturday afternoon, her landlord. He had knocked on her front door with the gold head of his cane, and when she opened it he had said, "How do? How do?" and walked ahead of her into her little parlor. It was so little and he was so big that he seemed to fill the room. Miss Lydia said, in a fluttered voice, "How do you do?" "Miss Sampson," he said--he had seated himself in a chair that creaked under his ruddy bulk and he put both hands on the top of his cane; his black eyes were friendly and amused--"I've had it in mind for some time to have a little talk with you." "Yes, sir," said Miss Lydia. "I need not go back to--to a painful experience that we both remember." Miss Lydia put her head on one side in a puzzled way, as if her memory had failed her. "You will know that I appreciated your attitude at that time. I appreciated it deeply." Miss Lydia rolled her handkerchief into a wabbly lamplighter; she seemed to have nothing to say. "I have come here now, not merely to tell you this, but to add that I intend to relieve you of the care of--ah, the little boy." Miss Lydia was silent. "There are things I should like to give him. He says he wants a pony. And I mean to educate him. It would seem strange to do this as an outsider; it might cause--ah, comment. So I am going to take him." "Any grandfather would want to," said Lydia Sampson. Mr. Smith raised his bushy eyebrows. "Well, we won't put it on that ground. But I like the boy, though I hear he gets into fights; I'm afraid he has the devil of a temper," said Mr. Smith, chuckling proudly. "But I've watched him, and he's no coward and no fool, either. In fact, I hear that he is a wonder mathematically. God knows where he got his brains! Well, I am going to adopt him. But that will make no difference in your income. That is assured to you as long as you live. I am indebted to you, Miss Sampson. Profoundly indebted." "Not at all," said Miss Lydia.