"No; it's not mine. I didn't know it. It is from the poor fellow I helped to carry into the public-house at Knoll, just this side Backsworth, a good deal hurt, I'm afraid. Something had got on the lines, I believe. I was half asleep, and knew nothing till I found ourselves all crushed up together in the dark, upside-down, my feet above my head. There was but one man in my carriage, and we didn't get foul of one another, and found we were all right, when we scrambled out of the window. So we helped out the others, and found that, besides the engineer and stoker--who I don't suppose can live, poor fellows!--there was only this man much damaged. Then, when there seemed no more to be done, I took my bag and walked across country, to reach home before you heard. But oh, this is worth anything!" He had to bend down for another embrace from his mother whose heart was very full as she held his bright young healthful face between her hands, though all she said was, "You have walked eleven miles and more! You must be half starved!--Anne, my dear, pray let him have something. He can eat it here." "I'll see," said Anne, hastening away. "Oh, don't go, Lenore," cried Frank, springing up. "Stay, I've not seen you!--Mother, how sweet of you! But I forgot! You don't know! I was only waiting till I was through." "I understand, my dear boy." "But how? How did you find out? Was it only that you knew she was the precious darling of my heart? and now you see and own why," cries Frank, almost beside himself with excitement and delight. "It was Lady Tyrrell who told me," said Mrs. Poynsett, sympathizing too much with the lovers to perceive that her standpoint of resistance was gone from her. "Yes," said Lenore. "She knew of our walk, and questioned me so closely that I could not conceal anything without falsehood." "After she met me at Aucuba Villa?" asked Frank. "Yes. Did you tell her anything?" "I thought she knew more than I found afterwards that she did," said Frank; "but there's no harm done. It is all coming now." "She told my father," said Eleonora, sadly, "and he cannot understand our delay. He is grieved and displeased, and thinks I have not been open with him." "Oh! that will be all right to-morrow," said Frank. "I'll have it out with a free heart, now there's no fear but that I have passed; and I've got the dearest of mothers! I feel as if I could meet him if he were a dozen examiners rolled into one, instead of the good old benevolent parent that he is! Ha! Anne--Susan--Jenkins--thank you--that's splendid! May I have it here? Super-excellent! Only here's half the clay-pit sticking to me! Let me just run up and make myself decent. Only don't let her run away."