She had said that he was a friend of her late father's, who had sought her out in the hope that she might help him to find some light employment in his old age, and that not knowing the country at all, he had lost his way across the hills during the blinding fury of the storm.

This story quickly ran through the little village, of which Mary's house was the last, at the summit of the "coombe," and many of its inhabitants came to inquire after "Mr.David," while he lay tossing and moaning between life and death, most of them seriously commiserating Mary herself for the "sight o' trouble" she had been put to,--"all for a trampin' stranger like!" "Though,"-- observed one rustic sage--"Bein' a lone woman as y' are, Mis' Deane, m'appen if he knew yer father 'twould be pleasant to talk to him when 'is 'ed comes clear, if clear it iver do come.

For when we've put our owd folk under the daisies, it do cheer the 'art a bit to talk of 'em to those as knew 'em when they was a standin' upright, bold an' strong, for all they lays so low till last trumpet." Mary smiled a grave assent, and with wise tact and careful forethought for the comfort and well-being of her unknown guest, quietly accepted the position she had brought upon herself as having given shelter and lodging to her "father's friend," thus smoothing all difficulties away for him, whether he recovered from his illness or not.

Had he died, she would have borne the expenses of his burial without a word of other explanation than that which she had offered by way of appeasing the always greedy curiosity of any community of human beings who are gathered in one small town or village,--and if he recovered, she was prepared to treat him in very truth as her "father's friend." "For,"-- she argued with herself, quite simply--"I am sure father would have been kind to him, and when once _he_ was kind, it was impossible not to be his friend." And, little by little, Helmsley struggled back to life,--life that was very weak and frail indeed, but still, life that contained the whole essence and elixir of being,--a new and growing interest.

Little by little his brain cleared and recovered its poise,--once more he found himself thinking of things that had been done, and of things that were yet worth doing.