Mrs. Perage went away very well satisfied with the state of affairs. At heart she was romantic like every woman, and like every woman she was quite a matchmaker. There was no young man in Cookley worthy of Gwen, so far as she knew, and this swain--so her thoughts ran--had been brought by Providence in the nick of time to save the girl from being an old maid. She longed to speak as freely to Miss Evans as she had spoken to her cousin, but did not dare to do so, lest she should frighten her into banishing the dawning feeling of love. Mrs. Perage had seen much harm come from meddling, so decided to refrain from throwing the young people too violently at one another's heads. But she certainly threw them gently, for when Hench was nearly all right a few days later, she sent him an invitation to dinner. This he accepted with great delight, and the more eagerly as Gwen had ceased her visits since he became convalescent. At the dinner he would have a chance of seeing her again, and perhaps an opportunity of hinting at his feelings. For by this time he had proved the truth of the saying that "Absence makes the heart grow fonder," and was very sure that he really and truly loved her with all the power that was in him. And this was the genuine passion of man for woman--not the counterfeit one which had led him to seek Zara Alpenny. By this time, since the Hungarian lady was not making trouble, Hench began to think that she would leave him alone altogether. Surely, he thought, if she intended to scheme for her daughter's marriage with him, she would have made some advance before now. Her silence lifted a weight off his mind, and he arrayed himself in purple and fine linen for the dinner, feeling that the sun of prosperity was beaming on him. He went to Mrs. Perage's house, believing that the fine weather would continue, and quite forgot the adage about the treacherous calm before the storm. But when he got to the door, and the door was opened by a small smart page with a freckled face and red hair, he was reminded that it did not do to trust wholly to appearance. The sight of the boy gave him quite a shock, and an uncomfortable one, reminding him as he did of Bethnal Green. "Bottles!" he said, stepping into the hall and staring at the lad. "No, sir; no, Mr. Hench. I'm Peter!" grinned the boy, and began to help Hench off with his overcoat. Then Owain remembered how Simon Jedd had told him he had a brother in service in the country--the same he had gone to see. But he never expected to find that brother in Cookley and in the service of Mrs. Perage. "You know my name?" he said hesitatingly, and wondering if the imp was to be trusted. "Oh yes, sir. Simon has spoken heaps heaps of times to me about you, saying how kind you were to him. Knew your name, sir, the minute Miss Gwen said as you'd saved her life." "Simon came down to see you some weeks ago?"