ecidedly damp eyes--"and others did
quite, and while in Ravenna I wrote a note to Mr. Greer, who called,
and I asked the direct question, and he answered. I asked him to write
it and he did, and paid me a handsome compliment besides. Papa Judge,
when you want a thing done send me."

"Well, my noble girl, you deserve a compliment. A girl that can do
that can, of course, have a man go through night and storm and flood
for her," said the Judge with enthusiasm.

"Mr. Greer said a man should go through fire," said Julia, as if a
little hurt.

"And so he may," said the Judge, improving.

"That is for you," said Julia, more gravely, and gave him the note.

CHAPTER XXX.

JEFFERSON.

Bart has come well nigh breaking down on my hands two or three times.
I find him unmanageable. He is pitched too high and tuned too nicely
for common life; and I am only too glad to get him off out of Newbury,
to care much how he went. To say, however, that he went off cheerful
and happy, would do the poor fellow injustice. He did his best to show
himself that it was all right. But something arose and whispered that
it was all wrong. Of course Julia and her love were not for him, and
yet in his heart a cry for her would make itself heard.

Didn't he go voluntarily, because he would? Who was to blame? Yet he
despised himself as a huge baby, because there was a half conscious
feeling of self-pity, a consciousness of injustice, of being beaten.
Then he was lame from, over-exertion, and his heart was sore, and he
had to leave his mother and Ed and George. Would it have been better
to remain a day or two and meet Julia? He felt that he would certainly
break down in her presence, and he had started, and shut her forever
out. If she did not stay shut out it would be her own fault. And that
was logical.

He got into the stage, and had the front seat, with wide soft
cushions, to himself, and drawing his large camlet cloak about him, he
would rest and sleep.

Not a bit of it. On the back seat was an old lady and a young one
with her; and a man on the middle seat. At Parkers, where they changed
horses, they had heard all about it, and had it all delightfully
jumbled up. Barton Markham had rescued Miss Ridgeley from a gang of
wolves, which had driven her into the Chagrin River, which froze over,
etc., but it had all ended happily, and the wedding-day was fixed.

Miss Ridgeley was a lovely girl, but poor; and Bart was a hero, whom
the ladi