e you loved your first love?--And why
did nothing come of it, as in general, they say, nothing ever did,
does, or can come of anybody's first love?"

A shade passed over her face. "Good boys don't ask questions;" she
said, shortly. "You be one; and fetch down our history from the
bookshelf, and let us read a chapter of it before we go to bed."

"Not to-night, little mother, please not!" he implored. "Indeed it
would be no use; it would be more waste time than ever, to drum any
more of those weary old stories into my hard head to-night. Tell me one
rather, as you used to do when I was a boy. I used to sit there, on
that very footstool at your feet. You could tell beautiful stories.
About the emperor Octavian, and the sons of Haymon, come now;" and
before she could prevent him, he had crouched down at her feet "Here I
am, and so now begin, little mother; I am sure a true love-story would
do me far more good than all those bloody battles, and cruel murders
you seem to think so necessary to my education."

He threw back his head with its shock of curls, and looked up with a
face it was not so easy to resist.

"You are a naughty curious boy," she said; and you turn upon me now, to
punish me for having spoiled you. You think I can deny you nothing; but
that is your mistake. Get up, sir, will you?--and go to bed, and sleep
away the presumptuous thought, that your little mother, who after God,
should be your first authority on earth, ever was, or ever could have
been, any such green gosling as you may have seen to-night. Well, do
you mean to go?"--He did not stir.

"What's the use of making a fuss?" he said playfully. "You know you
always end by doing what I want, naturally; because I never want
anything but what is reasonable. And now I want to hear this love-story
of yours--and I _ought_ to hear it, that I may not look like a
fool when other people talk of it, and wonder why you never
married--though--"

"Though?"

"Well, though you were so handsome,--they say."

"_Who_ says--?"

"Peter Lars for one; besides, I have only to open my eyes and see."

"You don't say so?"

"That is, to be candid, I never opened them till yesterday, when Peter
Lars was talking of it, and said he would give a great deal to have
seen you as you were when you first came, ten years ago. And then it
only just occurred to me that I had been struck with you at the time.
Since then, I never thought about it. I hardly knew whether you were
pl