and affected his health. His friends
became alarmed; but, when they questioned him, he only shook his head.
His very character seemed to be changed. Hitherto he had been the most
transparent of men; now he moved about with the air of a conspirator, and
bore himself like one on whose heart some mysterious secret weighed.

It was a long time before Tommy's watching and pondering produced any
definite result. Miss Owen seldom visited the street in which "the little
Twin Brethren" had their shop. By the desire of her employer she never
came to him in his old workshop, except upon business which could not
be delayed. Two or three times only, hitherto, had Tommy Dudgeon been
privileged to feast his eyes on the dainty little figure, which, on his
first sight of it, had awakened such tender memories in his mind. On each
occasion those memories had returned as vividly as before; but the only
result had been that his perplexity was sensibly increased.

All through the winter, the perturbation of the little huckster's mind
remained unallayed; but there came a day in early spring which set his
questionings at rest. In that joyous season there was born to Mr. and Mrs.
John Dudgeon an eighth child. The fact that, this time, the arrival did
not consist of twins was no less gratifying to the happy father, than to
his much-enduring spouse. But the child was a fine one, and his birth
almost cost his mother's life. As may be supposed, "the Golden Shoemaker"
did not forget his humble friends in their trouble. He engaged for them
the ablest doctor, and the most efficient nurse, that money could command.
Every day he sent messages of enquiry, and the messengers were never
empty-handed. Sometimes it was a servant who came; and sometimes it was
the coachman--not Bounder, but his successor, who was quite a different
man--with the carriage.

On the day of which we speak, the carriage had stopped at the door, and
Tommy Dudgeon, on the watch as usual, observed that a young lady was
sitting amongst its cushions. It was the four-wheeler, and its fair
occupant, basket in hand, alighted nimbly as soon as it stopped. Tommy
vigorously rubbed his eyes. Yes, it was the "sec'tary!" Now, perhaps, his
opportunity had come. As yet, he had never spoken to the "sec'tary," or
heard her speak. He made his most polite bow, as she stepped into his
shop. But how his heart thumped! He was shy with ladies at the best; but
now, hope and fear, and a vague feeling that,