subject (women are
such enthusiasts, you know), exclaimed, while she unconsciously moved
her chair near Hiram:

'Now, Mr. Meeker, I want you to tell me all about your journey to New
York. I insist on having every particular. I so anxious to know how it
was you compelled that dishonest wretch to do just what you asked of
him. Father says you dictated your own terms. Now for the secret of your
power.'

'It was my persuasive manner of showing how much better an honest course
is than a knavish one,' said Hiram, smiling.

'Oh yes, I dare say; but tell me what I want to know. You think,
perhaps, I don't understand business sufficiently to comprehend you; but
you are quite mistaken.'

We have all read how, by her own account, Desdemona was won. And her
history gives proof, if we had no other, of the great dramatist's
wonderful knowledge of the springs of human action and affection.

On this occasion, Hiram played Othello's part to perfection. After much
persuasion he was induced to give, in a modest, but graphic way, a
complete account of his trip to New York, with which the reader is
already familiar. Before he had concluded, Sarah Burns's appreciation
was at the highest pitch. And when, after a little, he took up his hat
to leave(he preferred to do so before Mr. Burns returned), he did not
appear to notice Sarah's heightened color and unequivocal look of
admiration, but bowed himself quietly out, without even taking her hand
(he knew it was not Louisa or Charlotte Hawkins he was dealing with),
but nevertheless with a low, friendly, almost confidential, yet quite
careless 'good night' on his lips. But how all aglow he was,
nevertheless, as he walked away from the house!--walked away without
turning at the gate to salute Sarah again, though she stood on the
piazza expecting it.

At this time many humanizing emotions filled the soul of Hiram Meeker.
He could not for the moment resist the genuine a spirit as that of Sarah
Burns shed even over _his_ nature.

'Well--well--she is a glorious creation; and--she--loves--me.'

He stopped; his pulse beat quick; he was very near the corner where they
had met when Sarah failed to recognize him.

'She would not cut me now--not quite,' he added, in the old tone.

CHAPTER XIV.

Did she love him? My heart aches when I ask the question.

* * * * *

Miss Burns stood for several minutes on the piazza after Hiram went
away. Presently her fat