tree every Sunday, when Louisy Purdo doesn't drown her
voice with screechin'; but she's grown more sober an' quiet-like than
ever. Miss Bray says she helps a powerful deal about house, and Amos
don't swear so much now he sees it hurts her."

"She's a dear little thing," I interrupted, impatiently; "but, Miss
Dinsmore, do you know Mr. Bray may have all the blacksmith-work to
himself now? for I'm going to town for the rest of the summer and
autumn."

"You don't say so, Sandy! Well, old Dr. Allen wasn't one of us, as I
tell 'em, and there's no sort of reason why you should be; and your
mother was a real born lady, though she was so gentle-spoken 't wasn't
half the women could tell the difference between her and them."

"But, Miss Dinsmore," I said, "I don't expect to forget my old friends,
because I hope to do better somewhere else than here. I shall often come
down to Warren."

"Oh, yes, you'll come down, I don't mistrust that," she replied, slowly
nodding her green calash, "as long as the schoolmarm is at the Hill; but
Annie will look paler than ever. She thinks a sight of you, poor thing,
and it will never be the same to her. She loves you like--a sister,"
added Miss Dinsmore, the tears in her faded blue eyes, and her sense of
womanly modesty supplying the familiar title.

We were very near the Variety Store. If I could for a moment drift away
from this annoying theme!

"How did you like Mr. Leopold, that afternoon I introduced him to you,
Miss Dinsmore?" I asked, in desperation.

"Oh! ah! Well, Sandy, to speak plain, I've seen him a matter of three or
four times, may-be, since. He set down, quite friendly-like, to a bit of
supper, last time he come. I suppose he feels lonely; he seems
pleasant-spoken, and is liked by everybody round here; poor man, he
oughtn't to be without a mate. He's taken a great likin' to Annie Bray;
but then, of course, he's got some sense of what's becomin'; she's years
too young for him."

"Too young! I should think so," indignantly; "he's old enough to be her
grandfather."

"No, Sandy,--no, I think not," said Miss Dinsmore, pausing thoughtfully
at her door-step. "Old Mr. Bray would have been nigh upon eighty come
next harvest; but then Annie has nobody to look out for her now you
know, exceptin' Amos, who a'n't over wide-awake, between you and me,
though an honester man never lived."

I was very willing to part with Miss Dinsmore.

"Another afternoon experience like this will mak