It was in that very chair, standing in exactly the same spot as now, that little Marian had been accustomed to sit, when she used to come in and delight the two little bachelors with her quaint sayings, and queen it over them in her pretty wilful way. For her sake, the old chair had been carefully preserved.

"You thought I was taking a liberty, no doubt, sir," said Miss Owen, jumping to her feet, with a merry laugh; "and quite right too."

Tommy was horrified at the bare suggestion of such a thing. He begged her to sit down again, and she laughingly complied, insisting that he should sit in the opposite chair. Presently John came in, and stood looking calmly on. He was visited by no disturbing memories. Having chatted gaily, for a few minutes, with the two little men, Miss Owen took her leave.

"It's all so strange!" she thought, as the carriage bore her swiftly away.

Then she knitted her brows, and clenched her hands in her lap.

"Oh," she half-audibly exclaimed, "what if I _have_ been here before? What if----" and she shivered with the excitement of the thought.

* * * * *

As for Tommy Dudgeon, all his doubts were put to flight at last.

CHAPTER x.x.xIV.

A "FATHER" AND "MOTHER" FOR THE "HOME."

About six weeks after this, the old Hall at Daisy Lane was ready for opening as a "Home" for waifs and strays. "Cobbler" Horn had visited Daisy Lane, from time to time, and he had also taken his sister and his young secretary to see the village and the old Hall. He had been much pleased with the progress of the improvements, and had marked with satisfaction the transformation which, in pursuance of his orders, was being effected in the Hall. It was clear that Mr. Gray was not only a most capable agent, but also a man after his employer's own heart; and it was evident that Messrs. Tongs and Ball had a.s.sisted the agent in every possible way.

The old Hall seemed likely to become an ideal Children's Home. The arrangements were most complete. A staff of capable nurses, and a bevy of maid-servants, had been engaged; to whom were added a porter and two boys, together with a head gardener and three a.s.sistants, to make, and keep, beautiful the s.p.a.cious grounds.

A number of children had already been selected as inmates of the "Home."

Setting aside the majority of the appeals, which had been many, from relatives who had children left on their hands by deceased parents, "Cobbler" Horn had adhered to his original purpose of receiving chiefly stray children--little ones with no friends, and without homes. With the aid of his lawyers, and of Mr. Durnford, he had much communication with workhouse and parish authorities, and even with the police; and, as the opening day of the "Home" drew near, he had secured, as the nucleus of his little family, some dozen tiny outcasts, consisting of six or seven boys, and about as many girls.

It now remained that a "father" and "mother" should be found. On this subject "the Golden Shoemaker" had talked much with his minister. He shrank from the thought of advertising his need. He was afraid of bringing upon himself an avalanche of mercenary applications. His idea was to fix upon some excellent Christian man and woman who might be induced to accept the post as a sacred and delightful duty. They must be persons who loved children, and who were not in search of a living; and it would be none the worse if it were necessary for them to make what would be considered a sacrifice, in order to accept the post.

"Cobbler" Horn looked around. He had no acquaintances in whom it seemed likely that his ideal would be realized. He mentioned his views to his lawyers, and they smiled in their indulgent way. Messrs. Tongs and Ball had already learnt to respect their eccentric client. But it was difficult for their legal minds to regard the question of the appointment of a master and matron to the "Home" exactly in the light in which it presented itself to "Cobbler" Horn. He spoke of his cherished desire to Mr.

Durnford.

"If I get the right man and woman, you know, sir, I shall be willing to pay them almost any amount of money. But I don't want them to know this beforehand. I must have a _father_ and _mother_ for my little family. It would be just as well," he added in faltering tones, "if they had lost a little one of their own. And I should like them to be some good Christian man and his wife, who would undertake the work without asking about salary at all, and would leave it to me to make that all right. Do you think they would trust me so far, Mr. Durnford?"

Mr. Durnford smiled in his shrewd way.

"If they knew you, Mr. Horn, they would rather trust you in the matter than suggest an amount themselves."

"No doubt," responded "the Golden Shoemaker," with a smile. "But now, Mr.

Durnford," he persisted for the twentieth time, "do you know of such a couple as I want?"

They were in the minister's study. Mr. Durnford sat musing, with his arms resting upon his knees, and his hands together at the finger-tips.

Suddenly he looked up.

"You want a couple who have lost a child, Mr. Horn? I can tell you of some good people who have found one."

"Cobbler" Horn gave a slight start. "Found a child! What child?" Such were the thoughts which darted, like lightning, through his brain. Then he smiled sadly to himself. Of course what he had imagined, for an instant, could not be.

"Well" he said calmly, "who are they? Let me hear!"

For one moment only, Mr. Durnford hesitated to reply.

"You will, perhaps, be startled, Mr. Horn, but must not misunderstand me, if I say that they are the excellent friends who have been as father and mother to your secretary, Miss Owen."

"Cobbler" Horn was indeed startled. His thoughts had not turned in the direction indicated by the minister's suggestion--that was all. But he was not displeased.

"Ah!" he exclaimed. "Well, if they are anything like my little secretary, they will do."

"Mr. and Mrs. Burton do not know that I have any thought of suggesting them to you, Mr. Horn. Nor have I the least idea whether or not they would accept the post. Mr. Burton holds a good position on the railway, in Birmingham, which I know he has no present intention of relinquishing. But there is not another couple of my acquaintance who would be likely to meet your wishes as well as these good friends of mine. You know, of course, that Miss Owen was found and rescued by them, when she was quite a little thing?"

"Yes," was the thoughtful reply; "and you really think they are the kind of persons I want?"

"I do, indeed."

"Well, well! But might I ask them, do you think?"

"Perhaps," said Mr. Durnford, "it would be as well to mention it to Miss Owen first."

"Might I do that, think you?"

"By all means!"

"Then I will."

He spoke to his secretary that very day. Miss Owen was delighted with the proposal, and approved of it with all her heart. She hoped Mr. and Mrs.

Burton would consent, and felt almost sure that they would. After that the minister agreed to convey the request of "the Golden Shoemaker" to his good friends. For this purpose, he made a journey to Birmingham, and, on the evening of his return, called on "Cobbler" Horn.

"Well?" enquired the latter eagerly, almost before the minister had taken his seat.

"Our friends are favourably disposed," replied Mr. Durnford; "but they would like to have a personal interview first."

"By all means. When can they see me? And where?"

"Well, it would be a great convenience to Mr. Burton if you would go there. He cannot very well get away. But he could arrange to meet you at his own house."

Acting upon this suggestion, "Cobbler" Horn paid a visit to Birmingham, the outcome of which was the engagement of Mr. and Mrs. Burton as "father"

and "mother" of the "home."

CHAPTER x.x.xV.

THE OPENING OF THE "HOME."