"Oh, no!" said Denys shrinkingly, "she would not like it."
Harry was off with his little petticoats flying, and was back again like a flash.
"She wants you," he said triumphantly, "she's been a-listening to your voice!"
He seized her hand, and led her into a little room behind the parlour, and on a low bed by the open window Denys saw a young woman with a pretty face, so like Harry's as to proclaim her his mother at once.
She looked up at Denys with a smile.
"Harry told me about you this morning," she said. "Won't you sit down, Miss? It is very kind of you to come in."
Denys sat down. The window commanded a view of the garden gate, so she was in no danger of missing Gertrude. She wondered whatever had become of her.
She found Mrs. Lyon very easy to talk to—and while Denys and his mother chatted, Harry climbed into the bed and fell fast asleep.
Mrs. Lyon looked down at him tenderly.
"It's hard to leave him," she said softly, "oh, so hard! My brother, Jim, who lives at Mixham Junction, has promised to take him, but I don't know what his wife is like. Jim don't never say much about her, and he'd be sure to if she was the right one for him, but Jim will be good to him, I know, and the Lord Jesus is our best Friend and He is the Good Shepherd. I often have to say that to myself to comfort myself."