nable teeth, or done something
with them, and is really quite decent looking. In short," he
continued, with a malicious leer at Billy, which made the blood tingle
to his finger's end, "In short, she'll do very well for a city buck
like me to play the mischief with for a summer or so, and then cast
off like an old coat."

There was a look in Billy's eye as Henry finished this speech which
decided that young man to make no further remarks concerning Mary, and
swaggering towards the door he added, "Well, Moreland, when will you
come round and take a horn of brandy? Let me know, and I'll have in
some of the bloods."

"Thank you," said George, "I never use the article."

"I beg your pardon," returned Henry, in a tone of mock humility. "I
remember now that you've taken to carrying a Prayer Book as big as an
old woman's moulding board, and manage to come out behind in the
service about three or four lines so as to be distinctly heard; but I
suppose you think it pleases the old gent your uncle, and that
furthers your cause with the daughter. By the way, present my
compliments to Miss Selden, and ask her if she has any word to send to
Chicopee, for I'll have to go there by and by, though I hate to
mightily, for it'll be just like the old man to put me through in the
hay field; and if there's any thing I abominate, it's work."

So saying, he took his leave. Just then there was a call for Mr,
Moreland, who also departed, leaving Billy alone.

"It is very strange that she never told me she knew him," thought he;
and then taking from his pocket a neatly folded letter, he again read
it through. But there was nothing in it about George, except the
simple words, "I am glad you have found a friend in Mr. Moreland. I am
sure I should like him, just because he is kind to you."

"Yes, she's forgotten him," said Billy, and that belief gave him
secret satisfaction. He had known Mary long and the interest he had
felt in her when a homely, neglected child, had not in the least
decreased as the lapse of time gradually ripened her into a fine,
intelligent-looking girl. He was to her a brother still, but she to
him was dearer far than a sister; and though in his letters he always
addressed her as such, in his heart he claimed her as something
nearer, and yet he had never breathed in her ear a word of love, or
hinted that it was for her sake he toiled both early and late,
hoarding up his earnings with almost a miser's care that she might be