“No, thank you, my farm’s across the water in State. It’d hardly pay to take over machinery from the old country.”
Mrs Stroud gave a start, and, as she afterwards expressed it, “nearly sunk down upon the rakes.”
“Could I have a word in private?” said Harry.
“Step this way—sir,” she said, still in a state of doubt, and leading him into the comfortable parlour behind the shop.
“Aunt Eliza,” said Harry, as the door closed behind them, “I felt sure that you would know me at once.”
Mrs Stroud did sink down into an arm-chair exclaiming:
“Bless us and save us, it’s Harry!”
“Yes, aunt,” said Harry, “it is; and I’ve come first to you, knowing your influence with father, and that you could be trusted with an important secret; to ask you to give me a welcome, and to overlook my past undutiful behaviour.”
“Oh, my! And I’d imagined you a convict, or drowned dead!”
“Not at all,” said Harry, “I never was drowned, and I haven’t yet been hanged. On the contrary, finding myself well-to-do in the world, and happily settled in life, I felt that it was time to endeavour to undo the past.”