John's solitude was suddenly broken by the sound of tramping footsteps without, and then a loud rap from some one's knuckles on the outer door of the cottage. The latch was lifted, and Dick Brace entered with a quick, bustling air. He threw down a newly-killed pigeon on the table, and greeted John in a loud hearty tone, such as had not been heard for many weeks in that sick-room. "Ha! Old fellow, glad to see you about again, though," he added with an oath, "you look like one who's had to swim hard for life—they've cropt your mane, and not left much of the 'young lion' about you. I've brought a pigeon I've shot with a new gun I've been trying—no, it's not worth talking about," he added, with a blustering awkwardness of manner, as John seemed about to thank him for the bird. And Brace seated himself opposite to the invalid, looking fidgety and somewhat embarrassed, as John might have perceived, had he not been too busy with his own thoughts to notice the manner of his companion. "You are just the man as I was a-wanting to see," said young Carey, his pale face flushing with the effort of speaking; "I've something to say to ye, Dick, and I'd better out with it at once. You see, I don't want to deal unhandsome by you—but about that partnership we meant to set up—" "Of course that affair went to smash when you were robbed of your tin," interrupted Dick Brace; "one can't set up in business with only a shovel, a spade, and a hammer!" "But I was not robbed," began Carey, when again his companion cut him short. "Besides, I've been thinking," said Dick, "that two landlords would be one too many for the 'Jolly Ploughboys'—a landlady would be quite another thing; so," he added, with an awkward little laugh, "I'm going to enter into partnership for life, and I've found Dinah Dealtry quite willing to set up in business with me." John's flushed face turned very pale; this was the only sign of emotion which he gave. He let not a word escape that might betray his secret to Dick, who, having told his tale, soon afterwards took his leave. When Widow Carey came home, full of thankful joy, with the money, she only thought her son unusually silent and grave—she believed that this was because he was weary, but she did wonder not a little that his appetite should have so suddenly left him. When Mrs. Carey heard afterwards from the baker of Dick's engagement to Dinah, the mother guessed what it had been that had cast a gloom over her son. She never mentioned the girl's name to John, and it never once passed his lips. The young man felt that his prayer for guidance had been answered in wisdom and goodness, but he could not feel thankful then for the blighting of earthly hopes.