th us.'

Then she thumped impatiently upon the door till it was opened by an
oldish woman.

'Now, Miss True, be quiet; and who's this without a hat?'

'I'm going to take him to Mother, Margot. Let us pass.'

The tiny hall seemed almost like a doll's house to Bobby. He hung
back; sudden shyness seized him.

'I think I'll wait for my father,' he said.

True released his hand, and dashed into the front room. Margot looked
down upon him in puzzled wonder, but a step outside made her smile.

'Ah! Here's the master,' she murmured; and Mr. Allonby's hand was upon
Bobby's shoulder the next instant.

'Now, little chap, come and see your new mother.'

Chapter VII.

HIS NEW HOME.

Bobby's eyes blinked nervously at his father's words. A 'new mother'
had never been in his calculations at all. A mother of any sort meant
very little to him; he had never come across one, and vaguely put them
in the same category as his grandmother and aunt. He clung hold of his
father's hand tightly, and then the door was opened, and Bobby's brain
received the first impression of cosy warmth and comfort, which never
faded from him in after-life. The room was small compared with his
grandmother's rooms, but, oh! so different. There was a tiny fire
blazing in the grate, a little black-and-white terrier lay basking on
the hearthrug, a lamp in a corner of the room, covered by a
rose-coloured shade, shed its light on a pretty pink and white chintz
couch underneath it, and upon this couch, leaning back amongst pink
cushions, was Bobby's stepmother. True was already sitting upon a
footstool, and her head was in her lap, her mother was stroking back
her hair gently and tenderly. Mrs. Allonby looked to most people a
mere laughing high-spirited girl, with wonderful black hair and
mischievous face and eyes, but that was generally the side she showed
to outsiders. To her husband and child there was deep, never-dying
love in her looks and tones; and Bobby caught a glimpse of this, small
boy as he was, when she turned her face towards her husband.

'Come along, wanderer, and confess! Have you been guilty of stealing,
and where is your prize? Oh, what a little darling!'

She opened her arms to Bobby, and True made way for him. Bobby found
himself smothered with kisses; he was shy no longer, for he felt the
atmosphere of love around him.

Standing, with his hand in his stepmother's, he heard his father
telling his story, and all