"I have asked Pattie Dale to come to us for a time," he said. "She—she is homeless. You see, my dear,"—nervously, for Mrs. Cragg's black eyes stared full at him,—"you see, her father's death is in a manner at my door. Of course I did not know about the mine. Nobody knew that. Still, if I had not built that unfortunate house, he might now be a living man. One can't help feeling a sort of responsibility in that matter—about his child, I mean. And so I felt sure you would wish— ahem—I felt that it was only the right thing to do." "Of all born idiots!" uttered his wife energetically. "Nay, my dear—" "You mean to say you've had the folly to ask that girl here!—to this house!—to my house, Mr. Cragg! To ask her to stay here!—under my roof?" Cragg felt tempted to suggest that he had a share in the said roof, but courage failed. He stroked Dot's hair, and Dot gazed with serene curiosity at Mrs. Cragg's red face. "You mean to say that, Mr. Cragg?" Cragg plucked up heart. After all, the thing had to be done. The more plainly he spoke now, the better matters would go in the future. It was only a pity that he did not at once tell the whole truth. "I have asked Pattie Dale to come here to-morrow, and to stay for a time—in fact, as long as it proves necessary. She is a very nice girl, and you will find her useful in the house. I could not do less under the circumstances. And I expect, my dear, that you will make her happy." "You expect?" "I certainly do expect it, as part of your duty." "I'm very much obliged to you, Mr. Cragg!" And Mrs. Cragg again flounced out of the room. CHAPTER VII Into a New Home PATTIE DALE was very young, and not much versed in the ways of the world. Nevertheless, she had eyes and ears, and she knew how to use them. It had not escaped her attention, in these few days of trouble, that Cragg's kindness was all his own action, and not that of his wife. She had noted that he seldom spoke of Mrs. Cragg, that when he did speak, it was in a dubious and uncomfortable manner, that he brought no message of sympathy from Mrs. Cragg, that Mrs. Cragg never came with him. Though she did not count it needful to tell him, she was not in absolute ignorance of what had passed between him and her father. A few minutes after her return to the sick-room, Mr. Dale had whispered feebly, "Lean down, dear. Listen to me, Pattie. That is a good man,—a good man! He will take care of you. He will give my Pattie a home—always—for always. He promised—promised me." Then, before Pattie could ask any questions, or could, if so disposed, make any protest, insensibility had come on. Those were her father's last conscious words.