'Why, Poppy,' he said, 'my own dear little woman, what are you doing here? Come and kiss your poor father, Poppy. And who are these two bonny little lads?' he asked, as Enoch and Elijah came running up to him.
'They're our babies,' said Poppy. 'God sent them after you went away, father; they both came on one day.'
'Dear me, dear me; and to think I never knew,' said her father. 'Poor Polly! And so you've all come to see grandmother. I never thought I should find you here; I was going home to-morrow. I must run in and see mother. Is she with grandmother, Poppy?'
See mother! Then he did not know. And Poppy could not tell him. She followed him with a very grave and sorrowful face, holding little Enoch and Elijah by the hand.
Grandmother came to the door at the sound of his voice.
'Why, if it isn't my John Henry!' she cried.
'Yes, mother, it's your John Henry, ashamed of himself at last. And so you've got poor Polly and the bairns here. Where is Polly? I wonder if she'll ever forgive me?'
'Then you haven't been home yet, John Henry!' was all grandmother could say.
'No, mother; I only got to Liverpool this morning, and I took you on my way; I was going home to-morrow.'
'Where's Polly?' he said, pushing past her, and looking first into the parlour and then into the kitchen. 'Is she upstairs, mother? Polly! Polly! Polly!'