ense they had begun to
talk, in such a hurry, together. She was lost in the imagination of
that old surprise, living it over again, remembering how it had
seemed when she suddenly knew that it was he who touched her
shoulder. Her thought of him was a backward thought, with a sense in
it of his presence just behind her again, perhaps, if she should
turn her head,--which she would not do, for all the world, to break
the spell,--when suddenly,--face to face,--through the car-window,
she awoke to his eyes and smile.

"How did you know?" she asked, as he came in and took the seat
beside her. Then she blushed to think what she had taken for
granted.

"I didn't," he answered; "except as a Yankee always knows things,
and a cat comes down upon her feet. I am taking a week's holiday,
and I began it two days sooner, that I might run up to see Aunt
Effie before I go down to Boston to meet my father. The steamer
will be due by Saturday. It is my first holiday since I went to
Arlesbury. I'm turning into a regular old Gradgrind, Miss Sylvie."

Sylvie smiled at him, as if a regular old Gradgrind were just the
most beautiful and praiseworthy creature a bright, hearty young
fellow could turn into.

"You'd better not encourage me," he said, shaking his head. "It
would be a dreadful thing if I should get sordid, you know. I'm not
apt to stop half way in anything; and I'm awfully in earnest now
about saving up money."

He had to stop there. He was coming close to motives, and these he
could say nothing about.

But a sudden stop, in speech as in music, is sometimes more
significant than any stricken note.

Sylvie did not speak at once, either. She was thinking what
different reasons there might be, for spending or saving; how there
might be hardest self-denial in most uncalculating extravagance.

When she found that they were growing awkwardly quiet, she said,--"I
suppose the right thing is to remember that there is neither virtue
nor blame in just saving or not saving."

"My father lost a good deal by the fire," said Rodney. "More than he
thought, at first. He is coming home sooner, in consequence. I'm
very glad I did not go abroad. I should have been just whirled out
of everything, if I had. As it is, I'm in a place; I've got a lever
planted. It's no time now for a fellow to look round for a
foothold."

"You like Arlesbury?" asked Sylvie. "I think it must be a lovely
place."

"Why?" said Rodney, taken by surprise.

"From