o, after
all,' she said. 'For I see what you don't, that it is a good and
flourishing match for you; a very honourable offer in Mr. Darton. And I
think I see a kind husband in him. So pray God 'twill go smooth, and
wind up well.'

Sally would not listen to misgivings. Of course it would go smoothly,
she asserted. 'How you are up and down, mother!' she went on. 'At this
moment, whatever hinders him, we are not so anxious to see him as he is
to be here, and his thought runs on before him, and settles down upon us
like the star in the east. Hark!' she exclaimed, with a breath of
relief, her eyes sparkling. 'I heard something. Yes--here they are!'

The next moment her mother's slower ear also distinguished the familiar
reverberation occasioned by footsteps clambering up the roots of the
sycamore.

'Yes it sounds like them at last,' she said. 'Well, it is not so very
late after all, considering the distance.'

The footfall ceased, and they arose, expecting a knock. They began to
think it might have been, after all, some neighbouring villager under
Bacchic influence, giving the centre of the road a wide berth, when their
doubts were dispelled by the new-comer's entry into the passage. The
door of the room was gently opened, and there appeared, not the pair of
travellers with whom we have already made acquaintance, but a pale-faced
man in the garb of extreme poverty--almost in rags.

'O, it's a tramp--gracious me!' said Sally, starting back.

His cheeks and eye-orbits were deep concaves--rather, it might be, from
natural weakness of constitution than irregular living, though there were
indications that he had led no careful life. He gazed at the two women
fixedly for a moment: then with an abashed, humiliated demeanour, dropped
his glance to the floor, and sank into a chair without uttering a word.

Sally was in advance of her mother, who had remained standing by the
fire. She now tried to discern the visitor across the candles.

'Why--mother,' said Sally faintly, turning back to Mrs. Hall. 'It is
Phil, from Australia!'

Mrs. Hall started, and grew pale, and a fit of coughing seized the man
with the ragged clothes. 'To come home like this!' she said. 'O,
Philip--are you ill?'

'No, no, mother,' replied he impatiently, as soon as he could speak.

'But for God's sake how do you come here--and just now too?'

'Well, I am here,' said the man. 'How it is I hardly know. I've come
home, mother, becaus