ing against desks, breaking his shins
cruelly against the steps of the platform as he stretched up both hands to
her, all might see that he was blind. Yet he came, as she had known he
would come.

"CLEM!"

They were in each other's arms, sobbing, laughing, crooning soft words
together, but only these articulate--

"You knew me?"

"Yes, you have come--I knew you would come!"

"Now I ask you," said Aunt Hannah to the Matron, who, unobserved by the
visitors, had followed them down the corridor, "I don't know you from
Adam, ma'am, but I ask you, as a Christian woman, if you'd part them two
lambs? And, if so, how?"

The Matron's answer went near to abashing her; for the Matron turned out
to be not only a Christian woman, as challenged, but an extremely
tender-hearted one.

"I like the child," she answered. "I like him so much that I'd be
thankful if you could get him removed; for, to tell the truth, he's ailing
here. We try to feed him well, and we try to make him happy; but he's
losing flesh, and he's not happy. Indeed we are not tyrants, ma'am, and
if it pleases you his sister shall stay with him overnight, and I promise
to take care of her; but he came to us from his legal guardian, and
without leave we can't give him up."

It was at this point that inspiration came to Mr. Joshua.

"Why not a telegram?" he suggested. "As his aunt, ma'am, you might
suggest a sea voyage for the child, and leave it to me to word it
strongly."

"If I wasn't a married woman," said Mrs. Purchase, "I could openly bless
the hour I made your acquaintance."

Between the despatch of Mr. Joshua's telegram and the receipt of his
answer there was weary waiting for all but the two children.
They, content in the moment's bliss, secure of the future, being reunited,
neither asked nor doubted.

Yet they missed something--the glad, astounded surprise of their elders as
Mr. Joshua, having taken the yellow envelope from Mrs. Purchase, whose
courage failed her, broke it open, and read aloud, "_Leave child in your
hands. Only do not bring him home_."

It was a happy party that travelled back that night to Blackfriars; and
Mr. Joshua, after shaking hands with everybody many times over, and
promising to eat his Christmas dinner on board the _Virtuous Lady_, walked
homeward to his solitary lodgings elate, treading the frosty pavement with
an unaccustomed springiness of step. He had vindicated the Power of the
Press.

CHAPTER XXV.