Springing excitedly to his feet, he continued quickly, “Thou remembers the night, too, thou gave me the bundle wi’ the little things in to take to the charitable institoote?  Well, I didn’t go straight theere wi’ it; I took it first to my room and opened it, just to have one more look at ’em; and lass, the first thing my eyes fell on wur a little pair o’ his boots—­thou remembers the pair—­the ones that had a little hole in one o’ the toes.  Well, Mary, that little hole staring me in the face touched my heart and melted it as few things in this world ever did, and so, lass, I just couldn’t send ’em away, and I took ’em out and put ’em in my trunk, wheere they still are.  Now, Mary, if those little worn boots could break down such a real worldly man as me—­and when the lad wur not my own, too—­does thou think for a moment that, if the maister and the missus could be got to come across ’em just about at the same time, sweet memories, that they’ve forgotten, would not rush over ’em, and that their hearts would not be moved to the very core, and that they would not just have to forgive each other?  Why!  I can fairly see ’em together now, lass, and it’s going to be all reet, and—­and—­and—­” He was actually too full for further utterance, and bending down clasped his equally moved listener in his arms, and just hugged her.

When Mary finally managed to extricate herself from his arms, he gave further vent to his feelings by cutting a series of remarkable capers, doubtless a species of ancient dance, in which (undignified as doubtless it would have been) Mary, who had caught the contagion of his happiness, would, I believe, eventually have joined, had he not suddenly hove to.

Hurrying to her side, he said, between his gasps for breath, “And now for the plot, lass.  I’ll go and get the boots, wrap ’em up, and put ’em on the table theere.  Then thou must go and tell the missus that there’s a parcel for her on the table.  Thou wilt manage, of course, to get out o’ the room before she can tell thee to fetch it.  As for me, when I know that she’s found it, I’ll go to the maister and deliver a like message to him, and also get away before he can tell me to bring it.  And then, lass, he’ll catch her when her heart’s full—­and then we shall see!”

His genial old coat-tails were flashing out of the room before Mary could say a word in reply.

As she sank breathlessly down on her chair, she exclaimed:  “Ah, but I am excited and moved!”

She had scarcely time to wipe her eyes when John flashed back again, his spectacles in one hand and a small parcel in the other.  “Theere they are, lass,” he almost shouted as he laid the parcel hurriedly on the table.  “And now, Mary, quick, go and tell her, and as soon as she finds ’em I’ll go and fix the maister.”

Mary needed no second bidding, but hurried away, while John left by a door that led to his master’s study.

CHAPTER III.