her
of it. It was a plot, deeply planned. In some manner Dagworthy had
learned what had happened to her father in Hebsworth, and had risked
everything on the terror he could inspire in her. The coming of her
father's friend was salvation.

She found herself clasping his hand warmly.

'Well, Miss Hood,' Cheeseman came in exclaiming, 'you may perhaps have
half a recollection of me, when you're told who I am, but I'm quite sure
I shouldn't have known you. Your good father was telling me about you
yesterday; rare and proud he was to speak of you, too, and not without
reason, I see. Mrs. Hoed, you've no need to complain of your for tune.
Times have been hard, no doubt, but they've brought you a blessing. If I
had a young lady such as this to look at me and call me father--well,
well, it won't do to think of it.'

In spite of her determination, Mrs. Hoed was mollified into an offer of
dinner. Mr. Cheeseman affected to refuse, but at a word from Emily he
allowed himself to be persuaded. The two sat with him, and listened to
his talk of bygone days. Emily's face was flushed; she kept her eyes on
Cheeseman as if his arrival were that of a long-hoped-for friend. The
visitor abounded in compliments to mother and daughter alike. He ate,
the while, with extreme heartiness, and at length drew from the table in
the most effusive mood.

'Mrs. Hood,' he said, leaning forward, 'I owe you an apology, many
apologies. You and your good husband in times long past did me a service
of a very substantial kind. You thought I had forgotten it--yes, you
couldn't help but think it--'

'Oh, we won't talk about that, Mr. Cheeseman,' interposed Mrs. Hood, not
without a suggestion in her tone that she had indeed entertained the
thought attributed to her.

'Ah, but I can't help speaking of it,' said Cheeseman, feelingly. 'Miss
Hood, you probably don't know what I refer to; you were a very little
lady in those days. They were hard times with me; indeed, I've never
known anything else. I was saying to your good father yesterday that he
could no longer talk of his ill-luck. Many a day he and I have
encouraged each other to face fortune, but that's all over for him; he's
got his foot on firm ground, thank heaven! I'm still catching at straws,
you see; I dare say it's a good deal my own fault; and then I never had
a good wife to look after me, and a daughter growing up to teach me
prudence. Well but, Miss Hood, I was saying that your father did me a