s the steady step and glance of a man about him when he came--a
grave, reserved air, which had an effect upon even the rough colliers.
Black Thompson came forward to shake hands with him, and his example was
followed by many of the others, with hearty expressions of sympathy and
attempts at consolation.

'It'll be put right some day,' said Stephen; and that was all they could
provoke him to utter. He went down to his work; and, though now and then
the recollection thrilled through him that there was no pleasant Fern's
Hollow for him to return to in the evening, none of his comrades could
betray him into any expression of resentment against his oppressor.

In the meantime Miss Anne did not forget to visit the cabin, and cheer,
as well as she could, the trouble of poor Martha, whose good and proud
housewifery had kept Fern's Hollow cleaner and tidier than any of the
cottages at Botfield. It was no easy matter to rouse Martha to take any
interest in the miserable cabin where the household furniture had been
hastily heaped in the night before; but when her heart warmed to the
work, in which Miss Anne was taking an active part, she began to feel
something like pleasure in making the new home like the old one, as far
as the interior went. Out of doors, no improvement could be made until
soil could be carried up the barren and steep bank, to make a little plot
of garden ground. But within, the work went on so heartily that, when
Stephen returned from the pit, half an hour earlier than usual,--for he
had no long walk of two miles now,--he found his grandfather settled in
the chimney corner, apparently unconscious of any removal, while both
Martha and little Nan seemed in some measure reconciled to their change
of dwelling. Moreover, Miss Anne was waiting to greet him kindly.

'Stephen,' she said, 'Martha has found the three notes in your
grandfather's pocket all safe. You had better take them with you to the
clergyman at Danesford, and do what he advises you with them. And now you
are come to live at Botfield, you can manage to go to church every
Sunday; even little Nan can go; and there is a night-school at Longville,
where you can learn to write as well as read. It will not be all loss, my
boy.'

The opportunity for going to Danesford was not long in coming, for Black
Thompson and Cole, who were the chief colliers in the pit, chose to take
a 'play-day' with the rest of their comrades; and the boys and girls
employed at the