"Yoh know father, Mr. Holmes? He's back now. This is him."
The old man came forward, humbly.
"It's me, Marster Stephen."
The sullen, stealthy face disgusted Holmes. He nodded, shortly.
"Yoh've been kind to my little girl while I was gone," he said, catching his breath. "I thank yoh, Marster."
"You need not. It was for Lois."
"'T was fur her I comed back hyur. 'T was a resk,"—with a dumb look of entreaty at Holmes,—"but fur her I thort I'd try it. I know't was a resk; but I thort them as cared fur Lo wud be merciful. She's a good girl, Lo. She's all I hev."
Lois brought a box over, lugging it heavily.
"We hev n't chairs; but yoh'll sit down, Mr. Holmes?" laughing as she covered it with a cloth. "It'd a warm place, here. Father studies 'n his watch, 'n' I'm teacher,"—showing the torn old spelling-book.
The old man came eagerly forward, seeing the smile flicker on Holmes's face.