The Rector’s trap was waiting outside, and Mrs. Smith was soon comfortably settled in it. She was too simple and homely to be shy, and it was plain both to the Rector and Tom that her distress at Pauline’s accident was largely mingled with delight at the prospect of having her to nurse. She spoke with eagerness to the Rector as they drove off of the time when she could take Polly back with her to Leyton. “She’s a good sort,” Mr. Harding said, as he and Tom turned to walk up the hill. “I hope her Polly will soon be better. She is a governess, isn’t she? Price told me she didn’t spend much time with the old folks.” Tom did not feel called upon to answer this. He was determined to find out at once how much Mr. Harding knew about Rhoda’s father and mother. “My aunt and I were talking about you yesterday, Mr. Harding, but we had no idea that you were in England.” Mr. Harding turned his keen black eyes upon him. “No, I only landed last week.” “My aunt has some reason to believe that Miss Sampson is related to her,” Tom hurried on. “You knew her father well, I believe?” Mr. Harding’s answer was emphatic. “I should say I did, sir. Poor old Jack and I were boys together. Why, he married a cousin of mine, as good as a sister. And we should have been partners now if he hadn’t died. Some people never understood Jack, and after Jenny died he got queerer than ever; but he and I never had a cloud between us.” Tom had stopped still in the road. The ground seemed to be swaying under his feet, and something caught him in the throat so that he could scarcely speak. “Was your cousin Rhoda’s mother?” he asked. “Yes; she was their only child. I knew she was safe and happy with the M’Alisters, or I would have looked after her more. I’ve no chick nor child of my own, and I mean Rhoda to have a big slice of what I’ve got to leave.” Tom did not catch the last words clearly. “My aunt’s sister married a Mr. James Sampson,” he hurried to say. “Was he related to Miss Sampson’s father?” “Ah, that was Jim. He got lost in the bush, poor fellow. He had his girl with him. Yes, he was Jack’s brother. They lived close together in Melbourne. I fancy Rhoda was named after Jim’s little girl. They were about the same age; but Jenny died when Rhoda was a year old, and Jack left Melbourne for Adelaide.” When Tom and Mr. Harding reached the house, he went hastily in search of his aunt. He found her in her own room, her eyes dim with weeping. She started up at the sight of his face. “Oh, Tom, what have you come to tell me?” In a few rapid words he made her understand. “You see how your mistake arose, Aunt Lucy. They both had the same name, Rhoda and Cousin Lydia’s little girl. And Cousin Lydia must have given that locket to Rhoda’s mother or to Rhoda’s father for her when they left Melbourne. But come down and speak to Mr. Harding. There is no need for him to know the mistake you fell into. Let us forget it, Aunt Lucy.”