It was nearly a month now since he had left Mrs. Home. When he went away he had provided her with another lodger. He remembered that by this time she must have come back from Torquay. As this thought came to him he stopped suddenly and pulled out his watch. Webster would not be at Paddington before two o'clock. He had nothing very special to do that morning, he would jump into a hansom and go and see Mrs. Home and Harold. He put his ideas into execution without an instant's delay, and arrived at Kentish Town and drew up at the well-known door at quite an early hour. Daisy and the baby were already out, but Harold, still something of an invalid, stood by the dining-room window. Harold, a little weary from his journey, a little spoiled by his happy month at Torquay was experiencing some of that flatness, which must now and then visit even a little child when he finds he must descend from a pedestal. For a very long time he had been first in every one's thoughts. He had now to retire from the privileges of an invalid to the everyday position, the everyday life of a healthy child. While at Torquay his mother had no thought for any one but him; but now, this very morning, she had clasped the baby in such an ecstasy of love to her heart, that little spoiled Harold felt quite a pang of jealousy. It was with a shout therefore of almost ecstasy that he hailed Hinton. He flew to open the door for him himself, and when he entered the dining-room he instantly climbed on his knee. Hinton was really fond of the boy, and Harold reflected with satisfaction that he was altogether his own friend, that he scarcely knew either Daisy or the baby. In a moment entered the happy, smiling mother. "Ah! you have come to see your good work completed," she said. "See what a healthy little boy I have brought back with me." "We had just a delicious time," said Harold, "and I'm very strong again now, ain't I, mother? But it wasn't Mr. Hinton gave us the money to go to Torquay, it was my pretty lady." "Do you know," said Mrs. Home, "I think you were scarcely, for all your great, great, and real kindness, scarcely perfect even in that respect. I never knew until a few days ago, and then it was in a letter from herself, that you are so soon to marry Charlotte Harman." "Yes, we are to be married on the twentieth," answered Hinton, "Has she written to you? I am glad." "I had one letter from her. She wrote to ask about my boy, and to tell me this of you." "She takes a great interest in you," said Hinton. "And I in her. I believe I can read character fairly well, and in her I see----" "What?" asked the lover, with a smile. "In brow, eyes, and lips I see truth, honor, love, bravery. Mr. Hinton, you deserve it all, but, nevertheless, you are drawing a great prize in your wife." "I believe I am," answered the young man, deeply moved.