anigan's room. Cautiously and silently he approached the ladder;
deftly, and without making the least noise, he moved the upper end of
it from the side of the building, and then, putting it on his shoulder,
gently walked away with it.

Around to the front of the house Mr. Tippengray carried the ladder, and
boldly placed it nearly upright, under Miss Mayberry's window. In
astonishment that young lady looked out, and asked him what in the world
he was doing.

"I want to speak to you," said Mr. Tippengray, "on a subject of great
importance, and I cannot afford to lose this opportunity. May I come
up?"

"Certainly," said Ida.

In a moment the Greek scholar was standing on one of the upper rounds of
the ladder, with his head and shoulders well above the window-sill.
Little Douglas was delighted to see him, and, taking hold of his
outstretched forefinger, gave it a good wag.

"It was a capital notion," said Mr. Tippengray, "for me to take this
ladder. In the first place, it enables me to get up to you, and
secondly, it prevents Lanigan Beam from getting down from his room."

Miss Mayberry laughed, and the baby crowed in sympathy.

"Why shouldn't he get down, Mr. Tippengray?" said she.

"If he did," was the answer, "he would be sure to interfere with me. He
would come here, and I don't want him. I have something to say to you,
Miss Mayberry, and I must be brief in saying it, for bystanders, no
matter who they might be, would prevent my speaking plainly. I have
become convinced, Miss Mayberry, that my life will be imperfect, and
indeed worthless, if I cannot pass it in prosecuting my studies in your
company, and with your assistance. You may think this strong language,
but it is true."

[Illustration: THE PROPOSAL.]

"That would be very pleasant," said the nurse-maid, "but I do not see
how you are going to manage it. My stay here will soon come to an end,
for if Mrs. Cristie does not return to the city in a week or two, I must
leave her. I am a teacher, you know, and before the end of the summer
vacation, I must go and make my arrangements for the next term, and then
you can easily see for yourself that when I am engaged in a school I
cannot do very much studying with you."

"Oh, my dear young lady," cried Mr. Tippengray, "you do not catch my
idea. I am not thinking of schools or positions, and I do not wish you
to think of them. I wish you to know that you have translated me from a
quiet scholar into an ardent lo