if you have made up your
mind to try what you can do with the publishers, I will take you with me
as a companion. It will be a saving to you and your good mother, for I
shall bear the expenses of the expedition."

Gifted Hopkins came very near going down on his knees. He was so
overcome with gratitude that it seemed as if his very coattails wagged
with his emotion.

"Take it quietly," said Master Gridley. "Don't make a fool of yourself.
Tell your mother to have some clean shirts and things ready for you, and
we will be off day after to-morrow morning."

Gifted hastened to impart the joyful news to his mother, and to break the
fact to Susan Posey that he was about to leave them for a while, and rush
into the deliriums and dangers of the great city.

Susan smiled. Gifted hardly knew whether to be pleased with her
sympathy, or vexed that she did not take his leaving more to heart. The
smile held out bravely for about a quarter of a minute. Then there came
on a little twitching at the corners of the mouth. Then. the blue eyes
began to shine with a kind of veiled glimmer. Then the blood came up
into her cheeks with a great rush, as if the heart had sent up a herald
with a red flag from the citadel to know what was going on at the
outworks. The message that went back was of discomfiture and
capitulation. Poor Susan was overcome, and gave herself up to weeping
and sobbing.

The sight was too much for the young poet. In a wild burst of passion he
seized her hand, and pressed it to his lips, exclaiming, "Would that you
could be mine forever!" and Susan forgot all that she ought to have
remembered, and, looking half reproachfully but half tenderly through her
tears, said, in tones of infinite sweetness, "O Gifted!"

CHAPTER XXV.

THE POET AND THE PUBLISHER.

It was settled that Master Byles Gridley and Mr. Gifted Hopkins should
leave early in the morning of the day appointed, to take the nearest
train to the city. Mrs. Hopkins labored hard to get them ready, so that
they might make a genteel appearance among the great people whom they
would meet in society. She brushed up Mr. Gridley's best black suit, and
bound the cuffs of his dress-coat, which were getting a little worried.
She held his honest-looking hat to the fire, and smoothed it while it was
warm, until one would have thought it had just been ironed by the hatter
himself. She had his boots and shoes brought into a more brilliant
condition than