, only a
part.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

TOMMY DUDGEON ON THE WATCH.

It will be remembered that, after bursting into the back-room with the
declaration, "She's come back!" Tommy Dudgeon had suddenly pulled himself
up and substituted the commonplace statement that he had "seen the
sec'tary." In fact, though, on marking the manner in which Miss Owen had
stepped out of the house and walked along the street, he had, for an
instant, imagined that little Marian had actually returned, the calmer
moments which followed had shown him what seemed the folly of such a
supposition. What real resemblance could there be between a child of five
and a young woman of eighteen? He had, indeed, seemed to see, this
afternoon, the very same determined look, and the pretty purposeful step,
with which the little maid whom he had loved had passed out of his sight
so long ago. But he now assured himself that "it was only the sec'tary
after all."

The child, for whom he had not ceased to mourn, would certainly come back,
but not like that. It was inevitable that unimaginative Tommy Dudgeon
should at first dismiss the possibility that little wild-flower Marian
should have returned in the person of the lady-secretary. But, none the
less, the sight of the secretary had brought back to him the vision of
little Marian as he had seen her last; and thenceforth he was supplied
with matter for much perplexing thought.

Fortunately the occupants of the room into which he had burst with his
hasty exclamation, who consisted of his brother and his brother's wife
alone, had but indistinctly caught his words. Consequently no one was any
the wiser, and he was able to assure himself that his first impression
with regard to the "sec'tary" was still the secret of his own breast.

It was a secret, however, which gave him no little trouble. The vanishing
of the child had occasioned him bitter grief. He had not only mourned in
respectful sympathy with the stricken father, but he had also sorrowed on
his own account. He had very tenderly loved little Marian Horn. She had
come to him like a fairy, scattering clouds of care, and diffusing joy;
and, since her departure, it had seemed as though the sunshine had ceased
to visit the narrow street upon which he looked out through the window,
and from the doorway, of his little shop.

And Tommy's regret for the loss of the child was rendered keener by a
haunting consci