as 'ow you'd found a friend o' yer father's a' trampin' an'
wanderin' an' 'ad took 'im in to board an' lodge on trust, I sez to
Twitt--'There you've got the meanin' o' that sea-gull! A stranger in the
village bringin' no good to the 'and as feeds'im!'"

Mary's laughter rang out now like a little peal of bells.

"Dear Mrs. Twitt!" she said--"I know how good and kind you are--but you
mustn't have any of your presentiments about me! I'm sure the poor
sea-gull meant no harm! And I'm sure that poor old David won't ever hurt
me----" Here she suddenly gave an exclamation--"Why, I forgot! The door
of his room has been open all this time! He must have heard us talking!"

She made a hurried movement, and Helmsley diplomatically closed his
eyes. She entered, and came softly up to his bedside, and he felt that
she stood there looking at him intently. He could hardly forbear a
smile;--but he managed to keep up a very creditable appearance of being
fast asleep, and she stole away again, drawing the door to behind her.
Thus, for the time being, he heard no more,--but he had gathered quite
enough to know exactly how matters stood with regard to his presence in
her little home.

"She has given out that I am an old friend of her father's!" he
mused--"And she has done that in order to silence both inquiry and
advice as to the propriety of her having taken me under her shelter and
protection. Kind heart! Gentle soul! And--what else did she say? That
she had 'really grown quite fond' of me! Can I--dare I--believe that?
No!--it is a mere feminine phrase--spoken out of compassionate impulse.
Fond of me! In my apparent condition of utter poverty,--old, ill and
useless, who could or would be 'fond' of me!"

Yet he dwelt on the words with a kind of hope that nerved and
invigorated him, and when at noon Mary came and assisted him to get up
out of bed, he showed greater evidence of strength than she had imagined
would be possible. True, his limbs ached sorely, and he was very feeble,
for even with the aid of a stick and the careful support of her strong
arm, his movements were tottering and uncertain, and the few steps
between his bedroom and the kitchen seemed nearly a mile of exhausting
distance. But the effort to walk did him good, and when he sank into the
armchair which had been placed ready for him near the fire, he looked up
with a smile and patted the gentle hand that had guided him along so
surely and firmly.

"I'm an old bag of bon