They went together to the cottage. Mrs. Barton prepared some tea, and they sat down to a slight meal.
"Oh, if it could only continue thus!" thought Simeon Barton, as he looked wistfully at the wife and son from whom he had been so long separated. "It is like a sight of the promised land."
"Do you know my mother's cousin, Albert Marlowe?" asked Bert, during the evening.
"I used to know him some years ago."
"Shall you call upon him? He is a rich man now."
"I think not I never—liked—him much."
Bert laughed.
"Ditto for me!" he said. "He is a cold, selfish man. He is not popular with his workmen."
"By the way, Bert," said his mother, "you need not mention Mr. Robinson's visit. His business requires secrecy."
"All right, mother! I'll bear it in mind."