She must be good-natured, he thought. Had she guessed that he was feeling lonely and home-sick, and needed something to cheer him? Well, it was good of her. It made him feel that he had a friend at hand, and Reuben whistled cheerily as he found a mug and placed his flowers in water. As yet, Reuben had not seen Owen Grant. In his ignorance of the extent of the great city, he had imagined that he would be sure to meet Owen soon after arriving in Birmingham, and he had not thought to ask old David Grant where Owen might be found. But since Owen was employed in one of the large shops in New Street, whilst Reuben's work was in a remote manufacturing district, it was not surprising that they did not meet. One Sunday, however, when Reuben had been many weeks in Birmingham, he was suddenly brought face to face with Owen Grant in the street. It was about eleven o'clock in the morning, and Reuben was on his way to church. Owen obviously had no intention of attending public worship. He was standing, with several youths of his own age, outside a public-house, before which a large drag drawn by four horses was stationed. Reuben had to look twice to be sure that it was Owen, for the lad's appearance had changed considerably during the months which had passed since he left Ashworth. He was dressed in a plaid suit, of rather a conspicuous pattern; he had a bright red tie adorned by a showy pin, a pipe was between his lips, and he flourished a smart little cane. He was talking gaily. The air of importance he had always worn was more marked than formerly. He evidently considered himself the chief person in the party, and his companions were willing that he should take the lead. He started as Reuben eagerly, suddenly halted before him, saying eagerly,— "Owen! Is it you?" There was some reluctance in his manner, though Reuben did not perceive it, as he responded to his greeting. "I rather think it is. But who would have thought of seeing you, old fellow?" "Did you not know that I had to come to Birmingham?" "Well, now you mention it, I believe my mother did say something about it in one of her letters. It is a good move on your part, old chap. Don't you find town ever so much jollier than that stupid hole in the country?" "No, I cannot say that I do," replied Reuben slowly. "I think the country is ever so much nicer than the town. And if you mean that Ashworth is a stupid hole, I am not of your mind." "He's mammy sick, poor boy," said one of Owen's companions, who stood regarding Reuben with a quizzical air; "he wants to go home to his ma." The others all laughed. "If you like the country so much, you had better come with us," said Owen, with rather a patronising air; "we are just off to spend the day in the country." "No, thank you; I cannot do that," said Reuben. "Oh, do come, old fellow," returned Owen, "I am sure you will like it. The fare is only two shillings there and back. And if the money's a difficulty, I'll stand treat."