Mr. Belchamber departed then, because he was rather tired after his tale, but Harry stopped on, because Mrs. Meadow had took a liking to his talk and found he’d got a very civil way with old women.  He’d listen to her and, as she loved to chatter, though she’d got nothing whatever to say, as so often happens with the great talkers, his attention pleased her and she asked him if he’d bide to supper.  And Millicent liked him also, being drawn to the man by his account of great hardships and perils borne with bravery; for though Harry wasn’t the hero of his own tales no more than his mates had been, yet he had gone through an amazing lot and done some bold and clever things.  And the girl, being one of the timid sort, liked to hear of the courage of a man, as they will.  Wade was an open speaker, and had no secrets from ’em.  He confessed that he’d got a clear four hundred pounds a year out of his battle with life.

“Not much for what I endured,” he said, “yet a lot more than many poor chaps, who went through worse.  And now I’m in a mind to settle down and find a bit of work and stick to Dean Prior for evermore.”

Mrs. Meadows laughed at her daughter when Harry was gone, for she had quick senses and was a good bit amused to see her shy girl open out and show interest in the man; but to chaff Millicent was always the way to shut her up, and she wouldn’t let her mother poke fun at her.

“Now I’ll never see him again,” vowed Millicent, “and all along of you, mother, for I’d blush to the roots of my hair if he spoke to me any more while I knew your cruel sharp eye was on me.”

However, see him again she did, because Wade had asked ’em all to come and drink tea long with him and witness the curiosities he’d fetched home from Australia; and though the girl made a hard try to escape the ordeal, her father bade her go along with him.  Mrs. Meadows didn’t go when the day came, because she weren’t feeling very well; and out of her ailments sprang a surprising matter that shook ’em all to the roots.

Harry Wade lived in a little house all alone and did for himself very clever as old campaigners know how to do.  He’d planned a very nice meal for ’em and laid out his treasures and was very sorry when John and his daughter explained the absence of Mrs. Meadows.  And sorrier still he declared himself to be when they cut their visit a bit short, because for the need to get home pretty quick to the suffering woman.

He was engaged for the most part with Millicent’s father that visit, though he pressed food of his own cooking upon her and tried to make her chatter a bit.  But he got little out of her, for she weren’t a talker at best, and she couldn’t forget her mother had laughed at her for being so interested in the man, and so she was shyer than usual.

But though she said nought, she liked to hear her father praise Harry as they went home along, for John thought well upon him.