e on all night, and when he rose in the morning he thought that
he looked guilty, and he was afraid that Miss Prime would notice it and
read his secret. He wanted rest. He wanted to be secure from any one who
would even suspect what was in his heart. But he wanted to see and to
talk to some one. Who better, then, than his old friend?

So he finished his morning's chores and slipped away. He would not pass
by Elizabeth's house, but went by alleys and lanes until he reached his
destination. The house looked rather silent and deserted, and Mr.
Hodges' old assistant did not seem to be working in the garden as usual.
But after some search the boy found his old friend smoking upon the back
porch. There was a cloud upon the usually bright features, and the old
man took his pipe from his mouth with a disconsolate sigh as the boy
came in sight.

"I 'm mighty glad you 've come, Freddie," said he, in a sad voice. "I
've been a-wantin' to talk to you all the mornin'. Set down on the side
o' the porch, or git a chair out o' the house, ef you 'd ruther."

The boy sat down, wondering what could be the matter with his friend,
and what he could have to say to him. Surely it must be something
serious, for the whole tone and manner of his companion indicated
something of import. The next remark startled him into sudden suspicion.

"There 's lots o' things made me think o' lots of other things in the
last couple o' days. You 've grown up kind o' quick like, Freddie, so
that a body 'ain't hardly noticed it, but that ain't no matter. You 're
up or purty nigh it, an' you can understand and appreciate lots o' the
things that you used to could n't."

Fred sat still, with mystery and embarrassment written on his face. He
wanted to hear more, but he was almost afraid to listen further.

"I 'ain't watched you so close, mebbe, as I 'd ought to 'a' done, but
when I seen you yistiddy evenin' holdin' that little girl in yore arms I
said to myself, I said, ''Liphalet Hodges, Freddie ain't a child no
more; he 's growed up.'" The boy's face was scarlet. Now he was sure
that the thoughts of his heart had been surprised, and that this best of
friends thought of him as "fresh," "mannish," or even wicked. He could
not bear the thought of it; again the tears rose in his eyes, usually so
free from such evidences of weakness. But the old man went on slowly in
a low, half-reminiscent tone, without looking at his auditor to see what
effect his words had had.