At length the light from the window of the little inn, at
the end of the lane where I purposed getting down, appeared in sight.
Begging the coachman to stop, I wished Oldershaw good-bye, and descended
from my perch on the roof. My chest and bag were handed down, and the
coach drove on.

"I cannot believe my eyes, Master Burton, sure it's not you!" exclaimed
Mrs Fowler, the landlady of the "Wheatsheaf."

I assured her that I was no other than little Ben Burton, though
somewhat increased in bulk during the five years I had been absent.

"And my mother?" I asked. "Is she well? And her kind friends?" The
answer was satisfactory. The Misses Schank had, however, gone out to a
tea party at Mr Simmon's the lawyer.

"And my mother?" I asked, "is she there too?"

"Oh! No, Lor' bless you, she never goes to such gay doings. She would
be stopping to look after the old lady, who keeps up wonderfully. And I
should not be surprised but what you find somebody else there. There
was a strange gentleman came over from Ireland some days gone, and has
been stopping in my house. He is a free and easy spoken sort of man,
though I do not understand all he says, for he speaks in the Irish way,
but he is a good customer at the bar, and is liberal-handed enough.
However, Master Burton, I do not know as I should advise your mother to
go and do it. You see if he was to ask me, it would be a different
matter. I could hold my own. Besides, I am accustomed to such doings
as his. When my good man that's gone, Simon Fowler, was alive, he was
not happy till he had got a few quarts of beer in his inside--not to
speak of gin and rum. But do you see, your dear mother is a different
sort of person, and it would not do for her to take up with a gentleman
with such habits."

I now began to comprehend the drift of the landlady's remarks.

"What!" I exclaimed, "is there a person such as you describe wanting to
marry my mother?"

"Well, that's the plain matter of fact," answered Mrs Fowler; "and what
is more he swears he will have her. He has come all the way over from
Ireland, and is not going back nonplussed."

I was greatly concerned at hearing this, for although, had my mother
wished to marry again, I should have been very thankful if she could
have found a suitable protector, yet I was sure that such a person as
Mrs Fowler described would make her miserable. There was another
person I was longing to ask about, but I own, from a