John Monday blushed deeply, but his eyes did not falter beneath the other's scrutinising gaze. In a low tone he commenced to explain how sorry he was he had not tried more to please Mr. Harding in the past. Mousey moved on with her aunt and uncle, so that what followed between her cousin and his late assistant she never knew. When Mr. Harding joined them again she overheard him say to Mr. Dawson—
"I never saw anyone so much altered in a short while as John Monday. He has grown such a manly lad, and his manners are wonderfully improved."
Mousey could not perceive that John Monday had changed to such an extent as her cousin said. He certainly looked better and happier, and there was an air of contentment about him which was pleasant to see; but when she found an opportunity for a few moments' conversation with him, she found him the same outspoken boy as of old. He inquired for Maria, and listened with interest to the little girl's account of the new home.
"I say, what's come to him?" he asked, jerking his thumb in the old familiar way in the direction of Mr. Harding. "What makes him so different? He spoke to me as nicely as anyone could, and asked me to come and see him some day. It's a fact! He did."
"And I hope you will come, John," she replied earnestly. "Yes, Cousin Robert is altered, isn't he? I think it's God's doing."
John Monday stared at her in silence for a moment, then he said—
"I shouldn't be surprised. Maybe you're right. I don't believe anyone but God could have brought about such a change in him. Well, I'm glad, that I am!"
Mr. Harding and his little cousin spent a few pleasant hours with Mr. and Mrs. Dawson and their family, and when they parted it was with the understanding that the visit should be repeated very soon.
During the short journey in the railway train, Mousey's thoughts reverted to that other occasion when she had first travelled with Mr. Harding. But how different was the feeling in her heart towards her companion now from what it had been when he had been taking her— sorrowful and unhappy—to the shelter of his home, a year before.
"My dear," he said presently, "I have been speaking to Cousin Eliza about putting a tombstone over the grave of your parents, and it will be done very shortly—such a one as you once told me you would like."