hose small lives.

The spring, when he came forth again, found him on a lower level, less
strong and needing a stick to aid his rheumatic knee.

Not much was heard of Emlyn that spring. She did not come to market
with her mistress, and Patience was not inclined to go in quest of her,
having a secret feeling that no news might be better for Stead than
anything she was likely to hear; while as to any chance of their coming
together, the Kentons had barely kept themselves through this winter,
and Steadfast's arithmetic was not making such progress as would give
him a place at a merchant's desk.

Patience, however, was considerably startled when, one fine June
day, she saw Mrs. Henshaw's servant point her out to two tall
soldierly-looking men, apparently father and son.

"Good morrow to you, honest woman," said the elder. "I am told it is you
who have been at charges for many years for my brother's daughter, Emlyn
Gaythorn."

Patience assented.

"You have been right good to her, I hear; and I thank you for that same,
and will bear what we may of the expense," he added, taking out a heavy
bag from his pouch.

He went on to explain that he and his son having gone abroad with his
master had been serving with the Dutch, and had made some prize money.
Learning on the peace that a small inheritance in Worcestershire had
fallen to the family, they had returned, and found from Lady Blythedale
that the brother's daughter was supposed to be alive somewhere near
Bristol. She had a right to half, and being honourable men, they had
set out in search of her, bringing letters from the lady to Mr. Henshaw,
whose house was still a centre of inquiry for persons in the Cavalier
interest. There, of course, they had discovered Emlyn; and Master
Gaythorn proceeded to say that it had been decided that the estate
should not be broken up, but that his son should at once wed her and
unite their claims.

"But, sir," exclaimed Patience, "she is troth plight to my brother."

"So she told me, but likewise that he is a broken man and sickly, and
had offered to restore her pledge."

Patience could not deny it, though she felt hotly indignant.

"She charged me to give it back to you," added the uncle; "and to bid
you tell the young man that we are beholden to you both; but that since
the young folk are to be wedded to-morrow morn, and then to set forth
for Worcestershire, there is no time for leave-takings."

"I do not wonder!" exclaimed Pat