“Thank you, Jane, for reminding me,” answered Owen, his countenance brightening. “I do, I do; I will try ever to do so.”
“That’s right, Master Owen, that’s right,” said Jane; “it makes me very glad to hear you say that.”
The shades of evening were coming on; they warned Jane that she ought to be on her way. Unwillingly she told Owen that she must be going. He accompanied her to the gate, for she could not bring herself to go in and say good-bye to the farmer’s family. “They will know that it was from no want of respect,” said Jane. “God bless you, Master Owen, God bless you.”
Owen looked after her until she was lost to sight at the end of the lane. It was some time before he could command himself sufficiently to go back into the house.
Chapter Two.
David Rowe had been a week in London engaged in the search for Owen’s relatives. At last a letter came from him, desiring that the trap might be sent over to Reston, as he would be down, God willing, by the coach that day.
His arrival was eagerly looked for by all at Fenside Farm. David’s laconic letter had not mentioned anything to satisfy their curiosity.
“Well, lad, what news?” exclaimed the farmer, as David stood while his mother and sister Sarah assisted him off with his great-coat. “Have you found out friends likely to help young Owen?”