On the day of which we speak, the carriage had stopped at the door, and Tommy Dudgeon, on the watch as usual, observed that a young lady was sitting amongst its cushions. It was the four-wheeler, and its fair occupant, basket in hand, alighted nimbly as soon as it stopped. Tommy vigorously rubbed his eyes. Yes, it was the "sec'tary!" Now, perhaps, his opportunity had come. As yet, he had never spoken to the "sec'tary," or heard her speak. He made his most polite bow, as she stepped into his shop. But how his heart thumped! He was shy with ladies at the best; but now, hope and fear, and a vague feeling that, with the entrance of this sprightly little lady, the past had all come back, increased his habitual nervousness a hundredfold. Surely it was not the first time that little tossing dusky head, with its black sparkling eyes, had presented itself in his doorway! She paused a moment on the step, gazed around with a bewildered air, and shot a startled glance into the honest, eager face of the little man, who quivered from head to foot as he met her gaze. "That strange feeling again!" she thought, "I can never have been _here_ before, at any rate!" Tommy Dudgeon's own confusion prevented his perceiving the momentary discomposure of his visitor. The next minute, however, she was speaking to the little man in her cordial, unaffected way. "You are Mr. Dudgeon, I expect," she said, holding out her neatly-gloved hand. "How are you, this afternoon? But," she continued after a pause, "which Mr. Dudgeon is it--the one with a wife, or the one without? My name," she added in her lively way, "is Owen--Mr. Horn's secretary, you know. You've heard of me, no doubt, Mr. Dudgeon?" Tommy Dudgeon had not yet found his tongue. "But," she broke out again, "I'm not giving you a chance to tell me who you are. Is it Mr. Dudgeon, or Mr. John? You see I know all about you." Tommy Dudgeon was in no condition to answer Miss Owen's question, even yet, simple though it was. If the sight of her had brought back the past, what thronging memories crowded upon him at the sound of her voice--wooing, wilful, joyously insistent! But that she was so womanly and ladylike, and that he knew she was "only the sec'tary," he would have been ready to advance upon her with outstretched hands, and ask her if she had quite forgotten Tommy Dudgeon--her old friend, Tommy? As it was, he stood staring like one bewitched. Miss Owen, wondering at his silence, and his fixed gaze, repeated her question in another form. "I don't wish to be rude; but are you the husband, or is it your brother?" Tommy pulled himself together with a gasp. "My name is Thomas, miss. It is my brother who is married, and whose wife is ill." "Then, Mr. Thomas, I'm glad to make your acquaintance. How is your brother's wife to-day? I've brought a few little things from Miss Horn, with her respects."