The footsteps entered the porch; there was a brushing on the mat, and the door of the room sprung back to disclose a rubicund man about thirty years of age, of thriving master-mechanic appearance and obviously comfortable temper.  On seeing the child, and before taking any notice whatever of the elders, the comer made a noise like the crowing of a cock and flapped his arms as if they were wings, a method of entry which had the unqualified admiration of Johnny.

‘Yes—­it is he,’ said Selina constrainedly advancing.

‘What—­were you all talking about me, my dear?’ said the genial young man when he had finished his crowing and resumed human manners.  ’Why what’s the matter,’ he went on.  ‘You look struck all of a heap.’  Mr. Miller spread an aspect of concern over his own face, and drew a chair up to the fire.

‘O mother, would you tell Mr. Miller, if he don’t know?’

‘Mister Miller! and going to be married in six days!’ he interposed.

‘Ah—­he don’t know it yet!’ murmured Mrs. Paddock.

‘Know what?’

’Well—­John Clark—­now Sergeant-Major Clark—­wasn’t shot at Alma after all.  ‘Twas another of almost the same name.’

‘Now that’s interesting!  There were several cases like that.’

‘And he’s home again; and he’s coming here to-night to see her.’

‘Whatever shall I say, that he may not be offended with what I’ve done?’ interposed Selina.

‘But why should it matter if he be?’

‘O!  I must agree to be his wife if he forgives me—­of course I must.’

’Must!  But why not say nay, Selina, even if he do forgive ‘ee?’

’O no!  How can I without being wicked?  You were very very kind, Mr. Miller, to ask me to have you; no other man would have done it after what had happened; and I agreed, even though I did not feel half so warm as I ought.  Yet it was entirely owing to my believing him in the grave, as I knew that if he were not he would carry out his promise; and this shows that I was right in trusting him.’

‘Yes . . .  He must be a goodish sort of fellow,’ said Mr. Miller, for a moment so impressed with the excellently faithful conduct of the sergeant-major of dragoons that he disregarded its effect upon his own position.  He sighed slowly and added, ’Well, Selina, ’tis for you to say.  I love you, and I love the boy; and there’s my chimney-corner and sticks o’ furniture ready for ‘ee both.’

‘Yes, I know!  But I mustn’t hear it any more now,’ murmured Selina quickly.  ’John will be here soon.  I hope he’ll see how it all was when I tell him.  If so be I could have written it to him it would have been better.’

’You think he doesn’t know a single word about our having been on the brink o’t.  But perhaps it’s the other way—­he’s heard of it and that may have brought him.

‘Ah—­perhaps he has!’ she said brightening.  ‘And already forgives me.’