"Yes; I sent him to fetch you," answered Owen. Then he added ungratefully, "They might as well be sent off now, mightn't they?" "Oh, let them stay. There are no secrets now. At least, I hope you will agree with me that we ought to say out the truth. Come here, Harold and Wilfred. You must love Owen, for my sake." Harold advanced and stood in front of them. "I say," he said, with a curious look at Owen, "I'm going to marry May when I grow up." "_Are_ you? That's a little awkward." "Why is it a little awkward?" demanded Harold gravely. "Well, because, to tell the truth, I was rather hoping to marry her myself." The child had evidently intended to draw forth this explicit statement, for he looked full at Owen, and said doggedly, "I just thought you were!" Then he suddenly turned away and hid his face on May's lap. Upon which Wilfred, conscious of a cloud in the air, began to cry softly. "Don't be angry with them, poor little fellows!" said May, checking some manifestation of impatience on Owen's part. Then she coaxed the children, and soothed them, and the childish emotion, brief though poignant, soon passed. And at length Harold lifted up his face, and, after a short struggle, said-- "I will shake hands with him, if you like, but I won't love him--not if he kisses you." "All right, old fellow," said Owen, taking the child's hand. "I sympathize with your feelings." Wilfred, of course, put out his small paw to be shaken like his brother's, and peace once more reigned. May then hurriedly--for she knew not how long they might remain uninterrupted--repeated what Clara Bertram had told her of her father's marriage; and, lastly, she spoke in terms of deep affection and gratitude of "Granny's" generosity. But on this point, as we know, Owen was already informed. All that he now heard strengthened and justified the strong inclination he already felt to abandon the idea of Buenos Ayres and to remain in England at all costs. With her father more completely cut off from his family than ever by this new marriage, her aunt hostile, her uncle, to say the least, dissatisfied, and sure to oppose her engagement when it should be announced, and no one friend in the world to rely upon except her grandmother, May's position would be very desolate if he, too, were far away on the other side of the world. Mrs. Dobbs was the trustiest and most devoted of parents, but she was old; and, moreover, she would have no power to insist on keeping May with her should her father take it into his head to decide otherwise. No; he must and would remain at hand to protect and watch over her. These were the sole considerations which decided him to come to this resolution then and there. But as soon as he had taken his resolution the thought arose pleasantly in his mind that it would bring some cheerfulness into the household at Collingwood Terrace, and he expressed it impulsively by saying all at once--