rom her carriage and stood at the door waiting for Bachelor
Billy and the boy to come to her. But Ralph, looking down at his black
hands and soiled clothing, hesitated and stopped in the middle of the
road. He knew that his face, too, was so covered with coal-dust as to
be almost unrecognizable. He felt that he ought not to appear before
Mrs. Burnham in this guise.

But she saw his embarrassment and called to him.

"I came to see you, Ralph," she said. "I want to talk to you both. May
I go into your house and find a chair?"

Both boy and man hurried forward then with kindly greetings, and
Bachelor Billy unlocked the door and bade her enter.

She went in and sat in the big rocking-chair, looking pale and weak,
while Ralph hurried away to wash the black dust from his face and
hands.

"Ye were verra kind, Mistress Burnham," said the man, "to sen' Ralph
the gude things to eat when he waur sick. An' the perty roses ye gie'd
'im,--he never tired o' watchin' 'em."

"I should have come myself to see him," she replied, "only that I too
have been ill. I thought to send such little delicacies as might tempt
his appetite. I knew that he must be quite exhausted after so great a
strain upon his nervous system. The excitement wore me out, and I had
no such struggle as he had. I am glad he has rallied from the shock."

"He's not ower strang yet; ye ken that by lukin' at 'im; but he's a
braw lad, a braw lad."

The lady turned and looked earnestly into Bachelor Billy's face.

"He's the bravest boy," she said, "the very bravest boy I ever knew
or heard, of, and the very best. I want him, Billy; I have come here
to-night to ask you if I may have him. Son or no son, he is very dear
to me, and I feel that I cannot do without him."

For a minute the man was silent. Down deep in his heart there had been
a spark of rejoicing at the probability that Ralph would stay with him
now indefinitely. He had pushed it as far out of sight as possible,
because it was a selfish rejoicing, and he felt that it was not right
since it came as a result of the boy's misfortune.

And now suddenly the fear of loss had quenched it entirely, and the
dread of being left alone came back upon him in full force.

He bit his lip before replying, to help hold back his mingled feeling
of pleasure at the bright prospect opening for Ralph, and of pain for
the separation which must follow.

"I dinna ken," he said at last, "how aught could be better for the
lad