He thought of all this one night as he was returning from the factory, and to comfort himself began humming his favorite tune,—

As he came in sight of the cottage, he wondered at the bright light which reflected from the windows; but he wondered still more at the scene presented within.

Their one table was set in the middle of the floor, and spread with such abundance as he had never seen there. His mother was hurrying to and fro, and intent on the cakes she was frying, while at the same time she talked with a well-dressed man who sat near the fire holding Ella in his lap.

"I haven't forgotten your favorite dish," she said, with an arch smile. "You liked rye fritters best, while Dexter preferred buckwheats."

"Ah, there is Johnny!" exclaimed the stranger, holding out his hand. "Don't you remember me?"

It was, indeed, an old friend,—the man who had been watched and nursed by Mrs. Talbot and her husband, and from whom she had never since heard. He had spent a week in searching for her, he said; and now he meant to take care of her and the children.

After supper, he rocked Ella to sleep, and then begged to hold her awhile; for, he said, "I have something to tell you."

"You know I had not fully recovered when I went away," he began. "I tried to thank you, but I couldn't; my heart was too full. I heard of Dexter's death, and felt that I had lost a brother. The next thing I did was to make a resolution to be a brother to you and yours. I worked hard and saved every penny. Not that I thought money could pay you for your care of me; but I felt that you might need help.

"There," he added, holding out a package, "is the first I earned. I laid it aside for you."

The widow's face flushed as she saw written on a corner of the wrapper, "Two hundred dollars."

"I found a good place and succeeded well. Every day I repeated the prayer Johnny taught me on my sick-bed, and God answered it. I saw my need of a Saviour, and gladly accepted the one offered me in the Bible. I wrote again and again to you, sending my letters to our old place; but I had no reply. At last I grew too anxious to wait longer, and, settling my business, I set out to find you. I wish I had started a year ago."

"God's time is the best time," murmured the widow, her eyes full of tears.

Then Mr. Hardy bade Johnny bring the Bible, and they had reading and prayers together.

Early as the widow rose the next morning, their guest was up before her, and on the roof examining the building. In the course of the day the leak was stopped, the broken steps mended, and a new lock put on the door.

Toward night he went out, but soon returned with a wagon containing a barrel of flour, two casks of potatoes, beside sundry small parcels. An hour later the wagon came again with a neat bedstead, mattress, and two stout blankets, and a whole web of cotton cloth for sheets.

Mrs. Talbot clasped her hands on her breast, saying to herself, "The Lord has, indeed, appeared for me." When she tried, with a broken voice; to thank Mr. Hardy, he only smiled as he said,—

"Wait a little. You'll find I'm selfish after all."

They had a long talk that evening, after the children were asleep, which accounted perhaps for the pretty pink in the widow's cheek, when Johnny saw her the next morning.

"Come here, my boy," said Mr. Hardy, drawing a stool to his side; "I loved your father. He was one of the best men I ever knew. But as he is gone, your mother last night consented that I should be a father to you and Ella. Will you be my true and loving son?"

He opened his arms, and Johnny was clasped to his breast.

"I will try to be a good son," he whispered.

As Mr. Hardy urged there was no use in delay, the next Sabbath morning they went to the Rector's house and were married, Mr. Miles giving the bride away.

When Mr. Hardy examined the cottage, he did it with the resolution to repair it, if it proved worth the expense. But he found many of the timbers rotten, and the sills sunken into the ground. He thought it better, therefore, to put up a new house, for which he had abundant means. He hired an old barn, and fitted it up for a shop, and then, when not otherwise engaged, labored diligently at getting out the frame, doors, and windows for his new building.