In Jane's eyes it might have been so, as it was superior to what she had seen in her mother's humble cottage. In the meantime she employed herself in preparing a proper suit of mourning for Owen. "The dear boy will have to go out among strangers, and he shall be well dressed, at all events," she observed as she stitched away at his garments. She had to work up all sorts of old materials. Her own small wages were due, but of that she thought not; her great desire was that her young master should be properly dressed. At length, however, the creditors put in their claims; the furniture and all the property of the late vicar had to be sold, but it was insufficient to meet their demands. Farmer Howe, knowing he matters were likely to turn out, took Owen to his house. The farmer had a large farm of his own, but there had been a bad harvest, and at no time had Fenside Farm been a very profitable one; he therefore could not do as much for the poor lad as his kind heart dictated. His second son David, the scholar of the family, as he called him, who was articled to an attorney in a neighbouring town, happened at the time to be at home. "David," said Farmer Howe, "surely the vicar and his wife must have had some kith and kin, and we must find out who they are; they may be inclined to do something for the boy, or, if not, they ought to do so." "The first thing I would suggest, father, is to question Owen, and hear what he knows about the matter," answered David; "we may then see what letters the poor lady or the vicar have left; they may throw some light on the subject." Owen was forthwith called in. He had seldom heard his parents allude to their relatives, but he held an opinion that his father had several, and from the way in which he had heard them spoken of he fancied that they were some great people, but who they were he could not tell. They certainly, however, had never shown any regard for Mr Hartley, or paid him the slightest attention. Owen knew that his mother had relations, and that her father had been in some public office, but had died without leaving her any fortune; his grandmother had also died a year or two after her marriage. This much Owen knew, but that was very little. "Oh yes," he said, "I remember that her name was Walford." "Well, that must have been your grandfather's name too. Do you know what your mother's maiden name was?" asked David. Owen could not tell. "Perhaps it will be in some of her books," suggested David. "They sometimes help one in such cases as this." "The books, I am afraid, were sold with the other property," said the farmer. "Then we must find out who bought them," remarked David; "perhaps Dobbs of our town did. I saw him at the sale. He is not likely to have disposed of them yet; I will get him to let me look over them."