"You know that old Thomas is leaving us." Thomas was the farmer's head man. "He's getting past work, and he's got some tidy savings put by. He won't be badly off. I'm not sorry. I'd like some one younger and sharper about the place, though I'd scarce have found it in my heart to dismiss him. But he wants to go. I've been casting about for a new man. I wonder how Michael would do." "Was it what you heard this afternoon that's made you think of him?" the girl asked, straight-forwardly. The farmer seemed a little taken aback. "Well--not exactly. But you see," he replied, "if so be that old Peter did leave him something, well then, Peter was a wise man, a very wise man--it shows he thought highly of the young fellow, and if he was to come to me instead of Thomas, I'd as lief as not that he had a something of his own. It would give him a better position over the others, you see." From her father's practical point of view, Ysenda did "see"; and when he went on to propose that they should stroll round by Michael's cottage for their evening walk, "just to have a look at things," she made no objection. "We might say we heard of his kindness to the dame, and ask about her and how she's getting on," added the farmer. So Michael, sitting ruminating by the fire, was not a little surprised when, on opening the door in answer to a knock, he was confronted by the two visitors. "We thought we'd look in to--to congratulate you on your--your kindness to our old friend and her grandchildren," the farmer began, very amiably. "We've heard all about it from them, you must know." Michael's sunburnt face had grown very red, first with the delight of seeing Ysenda, and then by the startling word "congratulate." For he knew that the secret confided to him and his cousins would be of no value if it were made known to others, so that Peter had trusted to them to keep it faithfully. Ysenda seemed to guess his alarm, and with a smile and a whisper she reassured him, even before her father had finished speaking. "It is all right," she said. "I know you have won"; and later on, she added, "It is what Peter hoped and wished for." So nothing was wanting to Michael's satisfaction. He begged his visitors to honour him by staying to supper, and when the farmer saw the good fare so quickly and neatly laid before them, his opinion of Michael, needless to say, rose still higher, and before he took leave of the young man he had hinted at the proposal he was thinking of. This was the beginning of a happy life for Mike. He became the farmer's right hand, and before long his son-in-law. Nor in his prosperity did Michael ever forget his old friends. Never a Sunday passed without his cousins and his poorer neighbours--Martha and her grandchildren--being his guests. Never, therefore, did the "good people" fail to respond to his summons.