"Do you know, Tom," he half laughed, half sobbed, "you're not unlike what I was at your age. You're a Tinker, whether you like it or not." "And a Lisle," added Tom, and lay back upon his pillow in great comfort. Then he added: "So Dorothy's my cousin." Jabez nodded. "Can I come in?" spoke Dorothy's voice outside. "Open the door, uncle, I've both hands full." "I'll leave you together, Tom. I know more than you think I know," whispered the old man, and quitted the room. "Of all the born conspirators commend me to Jabez Tinker, Esq., J.P., of Wilberlee Mill, that was, and to Mr. Tom Pinder, of Co-op. Mill, also that was. Here's your chicken-broth, sir, and you're to drink a glass of champagne--doctor's orders." "Put it on the table, Dorothy, for a moment. I want to speak to you. Come, stand here, please." Dorothy pouted, but obliged, "Behold, thine handmaiden," she said, "what wills my lord?" "Dorothy, be serious for a moment. Your uncle has told me a strange story. I cannot repeat it all. Can you credit it? I am your cousin!" "Oh! poor fellow, he's raving again. I knew how it would be, all this talking. I'm sorry to hear it, Tom--I do so hate cousins. I've dozens of 'em, and not one nice one in the lot." "And I'm not Tom Pinder, either." "And who may you please to be?" "Only Tom Tinker, son of Jabez Tinker, of Wilberlee Mill that was and is to be." Dorothy part withdrew from the bedside and looked long and fixedly on Tom. "And is that all you have to tell me, Mr. Tom Tinker?" "No, Dorothy, I have another secret to tell you. But you must come closer, closer still. Dorothy, I love you. I have loved you for years. Will you be my wife?" Dorothy made answer none. But when Tom drew her face to his she suffered him. "My darling, oh, my darling! I love you more than life," murmured Tom in her ear. "And is that what you call telling me a secret? You silly boy, I've known it ever so long." "And you, Dorothy, how long have you loved me?" "Ah! that's my secret." The story I set about to tell is told. Another house stands by Wilberlee Mill; another mill stands upon the ruins of Wilberlee, and Tom Tinker is master of the mill, and nominal master of the house. There is a Young Jabez plays about an old man's knee, and a sweet fair-haired Lucy prattles and babbles on its godmother's knee. Lucy Garside was bridesmaid at Dorothy's wedding, and was sponsor for her daughter at the font. She remained unmarried through her life, and she, too, had a secret; it was one that was never told. Wilberlee Mill prospered. The hands were paid on the same principles as Tom and Ben had introduced at Co-op. Mill, and prospered with the mill. If Tom was never rich as this world counts riches, he was rich in a wealth above a miser's dream. "What about the action 'Pinder at the suit of Tinker,'" asked Nehemiah Wimpenny of his client. "Judgment for the defendant with costs," was the curt reply.