pening his eyes widely again, he gazed full at
her--"That's the worst fate of all--to live in the world without anyone
to love you! Tell me--when I was delirious did I only talk of Tom o' the
Gleam?"

"That's the only person whose name you seemed to have on your
mind,"--she answered, smiling a little--"But you _did_ make a great
noise about money!"

"Money?" he echoed--"I--I made a noise about money?"

"Yes!" And her smile deepened--"Often at night you quite startled me by
shouting 'Money! Money!' I'm sure you've wanted it very badly!"

He moved restlessly and avoided her gaze. Presently he asked
querulously:

"Where is my old vest with all my papers?"

"It's just where I put it the night you came,"--she answered--"I haven't
touched it. Don't you remember you told me to keep the key of the
cupboard which is right here close to your bed? I've got it quite safe."

He turned his head round on the pillow and looked at her with a sudden
smile.

"Thank you! You are very kind to me, Mary! But you must let me work off
all I owe you as soon as I'm well."

She put one finger meditatively on her lips and surveyed him with a
whimsically indulgent air.

"Let you work it off? Well, I don't mind that at all! But a minute ago
you were saying you must get up and go on the tramp again. Now, if you
want to work for me, you must stay----"

"I will stay till I have paid you my debt somehow!" he said--"I'm
old--but I can do a few useful things yet."

"I'm sure you can!" And she nodded cheerfully--"And you shall! Now rest
a while, and don't fret!"

She went away from him then to fetch the little dog, Charlie, who, now
that his master was on the fair road to complete recovery, was always
brought in to amuse him after tea. Charlie was full of exuberant life,
and his gambols over the bed where Helmsley lay, his comic interest in
the feathery end of his own tail, and his general intense delight in the
fact of his own existence, made him a merry and affectionate little
playmate. He had taken immensely to his new home, and had attached
himself to Mary Deane with singular devotion, trotting after her
everywhere as close to her heels as possible. The fame of his beauty had
gone through the village, and many a small boy and girl came timidly to
the cottage door to try and "have a peep" at the smallest dog ever seen
in the neighbourhood, and certainly the prettiest.

"That little dawg be wurth twenty pun!"--said one of the rustics to