sure to know it, I believe
that you are now about the richest of the mill operatives living in
Ardsley village."

Stumbling, through his tears, and truly far more grateful for the
prevention of his crime than even for his unexpected good fortune and
full forgiveness, Cleena's Fayetty went.

As his footsteps died away, Amy, who seemed given to outbursts to
relieve her full heart, threw her arms about the old man's neck and
kissed him over and over.

"That's better, child, that's better. The first time thee planted it on
my nose, I seemed to have a dim perception that this was not the
regulation feature for such gifts, but it answered; though I like them
better on my cheek, child. Thee's improving. Now let's go home. Yes;
it's the carryall. There's room for us all. On the way I'll tell thee--"

"No, no; wait till we get home. Don't let's leave anybody out any more.
By thy face I can see it's something delightful thee is going to tell.
Oh, make the old horse travel, travel--fast, fast!"

CHAPTER XXIX.

CONCLUSION.

On half-holidays Cleena had always the best dinner of the week. To its
enjoyment were usually brought the best appetites of the week as well;
for there was leisure and talk and laughter, and that interchange of
experiences which kept their family life so united.

Archibald Wingate joined the party at this present half-holiday dinner;
yet even with such cheerfulness about him could not but shiver now and
then, as he recalled his narrow escape of the afternoon. To have taken
his meal alone, on that day, would have been to suffer greatly.

But Amy had brought him in and placed him in the seat of honor, and amid
the general rejoicing over Hallam's wonderful recovery and surprise,
they had made him feel that he was a sharer. They had just drawn back
from the table, and were going into the sitting room, when there came a
tap at the door that Cleena answered. It was a small tap, very low down
on the panel, but it was given due importance; for wasn't the visitor
Master "Willyum Gladstone Jones," and wasn't Cleena just making fine
progress in teaching him his "manners"?

So they all paused to wait the child's important entrance, and to smile
over Goodsoul's greeting:--

"The top o' the evenin' to you, Mister Jones. An' what may be givin' us
the pleasure of a visit from your lordship the now? A what? Speak up; a
box is it? Miss Amy's box. Never a doubt I doubt you've made messes of
its insides, by th