"Well, Ben," laughed Mr. Fisher, "you have me this time, I'll admit. I am a bit curious; there's no denying it; so let us know what this piece of good news is."
"You have heard me speak," said Benny, "of the little girl that gave me my lucky shilling years ago?"
"The angel, you mean, Benny," said Mrs. Fisher, with a smile.
"Yes, that's who I mean," said Benny, blushing; "and I am not quite certain that she is not an angel yet."
"Well, and what of her?" said Mr. Fisher.
"I daresay you will think it a strange story, but it seems she is a niece of Mr. Munroe, and is staying at present at Brooklands. She was with Mr. Munroe the night the horse took fright, and so without knowing it I saved the life of the little girl that befriended me in the hour of my greatest need. A little girl no longer, however, for she has grown into a grand lady, and yet she seems as good and kind as ever."
"Well, I never!" said Mr. Fisher.
"And you recognized each other at once?" inquired his wife.
"No, that we didn't: she has grown out of recollection quite; and I suppose I have also."
"Well, I should rather think you have," said Mr. Fisher, with a broad grin; "you were a scarecrow when you found your way here, and no mistake."