"A great deal of change!" cried Gwen hotly. "While I lived there with my poor father, the Grange was a house of hate; now it will be a mansion of love." "Quite so; you will be so happy that you won't want to see any one." "Always you, Jim," said Owain, holding out his hand, which the barrister took. "And me also, I hope," said Mrs. Perage, entering unexpectedly from the conservatory. "Hum! A touching tableau. The sweetheart, the angel of the sweetheart, and the true-hearted friend. Fudge!" "You don't mean that word!" cried Gwen. "Perhaps I don't." Mrs. Perage rubbed her nose. "For to tell you the truth, I don't know what the word means. I got it out of 'The Vicar of Wakefield,' and it seemed useful. I should like to have used it to that old woman who is screaming viciously all the way down the avenue. Really, young man, you have some very queer friends." "Well, I lived in Queer Street for a long time, you know!" said Owain, smiling. "You'll never live there again," whispered Gwen. "Lucky Owain!" mocked Vane. "No more hunger and thirst, hard beds and unpaid bills. You will henceforth lie in the lap of luxury." "Hum!" said Mrs. Perage gruffly. "There is a good luncheon: a much better one than you ever tasted in Queer Street, I'll be bound. There's the gong." Owain rose quickly and took Gwen's arm. "And here begins the new life!" he said. THE END -------------------------------- Printed by W. Mate & Sons, Ltd., "Directory" Office, Bournemouth End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of In Queer Street, by Fergus Hume