the little girl was well enough for the
journey, she was sent with old Marie to stay at a little seaside place
called Bembies. Dan went with them also, partly because Mrs. Carew had
thought that it would be good for Una to have a child's company, and
partly because the little boy really needed a change.

And at Bembies Una told Dan her father's secret.

What it was must be kept for a new chapter.

CHAPTER XII.

HER FATHER'S SECRET.

At the top of a high six-barred gate sat Tom, swinging his legs and
whistling softly in a thoughtful kind of way, while he watched Una and
Dan, who were seated below him on the grass, making a wreath of red
berries, hops and nuts.

The Harvest Thanksgiving was to be held at the little church the
following evening, and Ruth--like her namesake of long ago--was
gathering the few stray ears of corn left among the stubble. She was
helping to make a sickle to hang in front of the pulpit.

"Una," began Tom hesitatingly, "you said once--before you went
away--that when you came back again you'd tell us about your father's
secret. Will you?"

"Oh, will you, Una?" asked Norah, who had just joined the others with a
fresh supply of berries and hops from the hedge.

Dan said nothing; for had not Una talked to him often about her father
when they had sat on the bench at Bembies, or side by side in the deep
window-seat overlooking the quaint little western bay? The little boy
remembered all that she had told him, and often thought to himself that
he too would try and do some good in the world, even though he would
never be able to run so fast as Tom, or to play football or cricket
like Stephen and Philip.

Una looked up from the wreath with a sad little smile on her face.

"It is funny you should ask me just now," she said; "I was just
thinking about it, and wondering if I should tell you."

[Illustration: "'I was just wondering if I should tell you,' said Una."]

"Will you tell us, then?" said Tom, as he swung himself off the gate
and sat down on the grass by Una's side.

"Father used to tell me about it when he was so ill," said the little
girl. "I used to sit in his room, you know, in case he wanted
anything; and sometimes I thought he was asleep, and then he would open
his eyes all at once and begin to talk to me; and he told me lots and
lots of things he had never told me before--about things he had done, I
mean, and about my mamma--and----"

A big tear rolled down Una's c