“May I? Thank you! I certainly will do so, with pleasure, if I am spared. Good-night, my dear. Good-night, little Owl!” So, after shaking hands with Roma, and kissing Owlet, the lawyer left the room. Soon after this Roma rang her bell, and when it was answered by Tom she gave him a parting “remembrance” for himself and one for his mother. Tom grinned with delight, and then suddenly “boo-hooed” at the thought that his friends were going away. “Don’t cry. I dare say you and auntie can come and spend your summer holiday with us, too,” said Owlet. “Oh, yes, Tom,” added Roma, “if ever you or your mother would like to change city work for country work, come to me, and you shall have employment. Stay, I will give you my address, so that you can write or get a letter written whenever you please.” She took a card, wrote her full address, and gave it to the boy. Tom stopped howling as he pocketed it, and said: “Oh, yes, ma’am. Mammy like to go back to de country, mammy do, as the city ain’t wot it’s cracked up to be, nohow, mammy say.” “I suppose your mother has gone to bed now, but tell her she can come and take leave of me any time to-morrow between seven and half-past eight o’clock. Now, good-night, Tom. God bless you,” said Roma very gently as she dismissed him. “Good-night, ma’am—and—little Miss—oh, boo-hoo-woo!” howled the boy as he ran out of the room. “Now, my little Owlet, we must go to bed if we wish to get up early in the morning,” Roma explained. And in twenty minutes more the lady and the child had retired; but only Owlet went to sleep. Roma was kept wide awake with thoughts of the coming interview and explanation between herself and Harcourt. It was near morning when she first fell into a fitful sleep, from which she was soon fully aroused by the restlessness of Owlet, who had got up and dressed herself, and was fidgeting about the room in a manner wholly inconsistent with her usually still and staid demeanor. “Oh, you are awake!” she said when she heard Roma stir and saw her eyes open. “It is after seven o’clock, and you told Tom’s mother that she might come any time between seven and half-past eight.” “You extremely literal Owlet, has the woman been up to see me?” inquired Roma. “No, ma’am, she hasn’t; but I hear her coming now,” Owlet said. Roma also heard the cheery voice of the cook as she came along the hall, talking to some one in her company, who did not answer. Roma stepped out of bed, drew on her dressing-gown, thrust her feet into slippers, and sat down in her armchair to receive the visitors. Owlet opened the door before they had time to rap, and admitted Tom and his mother.