"What garden?--oh! ah! yes, I recollect, Covent Garden Market. Marrows growing well, sir, arn't they?" he continued, pointing to the great succulent plants trailing over the rocks. "My bees;" he pointed to five straw hives. "You shall taste our honey. Wild thyme honey off the cliff and moor. Very glad you've come, sir. But, I say," he added, stopping short in the middle of the path, taking his pipe from his lips, and sending a puff down first one nostril and then the other, "never mind him, I'm master. You shall be my visitor to-day, eh?" He chuckled and clapped Dick on the shoulder, pushing him half before him down the stony, steppy path, and as he did so he turned his great grey head and gave a most prodigious wink, accompanied by a screw up of the face at Will, a look full of secrecy and scheming, all of which, however, Will fully understood and felt relieved. "It's very kind of you to a stranger," said the visitor. "Not at all, my lad, not at all. You've come to live among us, and we're very glad to see you. Here we are, here's my good lady--Mrs Marion. I've got a visitor, my dear: Mr--Mr--what's your name?" he whispered hastily. "Richard Temple," said the lad, in the same tone. "Ah, to be sure! my memory's getting bad. Mr Richard Temple, my dear. Young gentleman from London. Come to have a cup of tea with us to-night." Aunt Ruth's first feeling was that it was a liberty to ask anyone to tea without first obtaining her consent; her second, one of annoyance that she had not put on her black silk that afternoon; her next, one of pleasure, for the lad went up to her in a pleasant, frank, gentlemanly way, and held out his hand, behaving towards the old lady with that natural chivalry and courtesy that you always see in a boy who has been much with a good mother and grown-up sisters. "It's very kind of you to welcome me like this," he said; and, to Will's great relief, Aunt Ruth smiled and felt ready to purr, and as if she really had been welcoming the visitor very warmly. "Don't think me rude," continued the lad, whose eager eyes kept wandering about, "but I've just come from London, where everything seems so dark and grim; and your cottage does look so beautiful, and clean, and snug." "Well said, youngster!" cried Uncle Abram; "so it does. Our skipper won't have a spot on anything or a bit of dust anywhere; eh, Will?" "Oh no! aunt likes the place to look nice," echoed Will. "Don't you listen to them, my dear," said Aunt Ruth; "but I'm very glad to see you, and you must excuse me now." She slipped out of the room, and Uncle Abram gave his nephew another look full of intelligence before proceeding to show his young guest his collection in the best room while the tea was being prepared. For the best room was quite a museum of trophies brought by Uncle Abram's own hands from what he called "furren lands;" and Dick was excitement itself over the inspection.