armth and Mr Robins's nursing, had fallen
asleep in his arms. Mrs Gray was so much confused and bewildered by
the events of the day, that she would hardly have been surprised to see
the Queen with the crown on her head sitting there in the master's
arm-chair, quite at home like, and holding the baby on one arm and the
sceptre on the other; and Tom was of too phlegmatic a disposition to be
surprised at anything. So they made no remark, and Mr Robins laid the
baby, still asleep, in Bill's arms, and went away.

Such a beautiful, quiet September night, with great, soft stars
overhead, and the scent of fallen leaves in the air; the path beneath
his feet was soft with them, and as he passed under the elms which by
daylight were a blaze of sunny gold, some leaves dropped gently on his
head.

'To-morrow,' he said, 'I will bring little Zoe home, and I will let her
mother--I will let Edith know that the child is with me, and that if
she likes'---- It needed but a word, he felt sure, to bring the mother
to the baby, the daughter to her father.

He stood for a moment by the church-yard gate, close to the spot where
that bitter, cruel parting had been, and fancied what the meeting would
be. After all, what was his feeling for little Zoe, and his
imagination of what his little grandchild would be to him in the
future, to the delight of having Edith's arms round his neck and
holding her to his heart once more?

'Edith,' he whispered softly, as he turned away; 'Edith, come home!'

'I wonder,' he said to Jane Sands that night; 'I wonder if you could
find out an address for me?'

She was folding up the tablecloth, and she stopped with a puzzled look.

'An address? Whose?'

'Well,' he said, without looking at her, 'I fancy there are still some
of the Blakes, (the word came out with a certain effort) 'living at
Bilton, and perhaps you could find out from them the address I want;
or, perhaps,' he added quickly, for she understood now, and eager words
were on her lips, 'perhaps you know. There! never mind now; if you
know, you can tell me to-morrow.'

CHAPTER VIII.

Preparation--The Room Furnished--Mrs Gray at Work--The Baby Gone--The
Gypsy Mother--The Gypsy's Story--A Foolish Fancy--Something Has
Happened--The Real Baby

Morning very often brings other counsels, but this was not the case
with Mr Robins, for when he got up next day he was more than ever
resolved to carry out his intention of bringing little Zoe ho