ood deal out of him, I went in for general
information, as the time was short. You know I always forget everything
else when I get hold of such a fellow."

"That is evident. I wonder how you came to remember me at all," answered
Rose, on the brink of a laugh it was so absurd.

"I didn't till Steve said something that reminded me then it burst upon
me, in one awful shock, that I'd gone and left you, and you might have
knocked me down with a feather," said honest Mac, hiding none of his
iniquity.

"What did you do then?"

"Do! I went off like a shot and never stopped till I reached the Hopes'"

"You didn't walk all the way?" cried Rose.

"Bless you, no I ran. But you were gone with Mrs. Bliss, so I pelted
back again to see with my own eyes that you were safe at home," answered
Mac with a sigh of relief, wiping his hot forehead.

"But it is three miles at least each way, and twelve o'clock, and dark
and cold. Oh, Mac! How could you!" exclaimed Rose, suddenly realizing
what he had done as she heard his labored breathing, saw the state of
the thin boots, and detected the absence of an overcoat.

"Couldn't do less, could I?" asked Mac, leaning up against the door and
trying not to pant.

"There was no need of half killing yourself for such a trifle. You might
have known I could take care of myself for once, at least, with so many
friends about. Sit down this minute. Bring another cup, please, Phebe
this boy isn't going home till he is rested and refreshed after such a
run as that," commanded Rose.

"Don't be good to me I'd rather take a scolding than a chair, and drink
hemlock instead of chocolate if you happen to have any ready," answered
Mac with a pathetic puff as he subsided onto the sofa and meekly took
the draft Phebe brought him.

"If you had anything the matter with your heart, sir, a race of this
sort might be the death of you so never do it again," said Rose,
offering her fan to cool his heated countenance.

"Haven't got any heart."

"Yes, you have, for I hear it beating like a trip-hammer, and it is
my fault I ought to have stopped as we went by and told you I was all
right."

"It's the mortification, not the miles, that upsets me. I often take
that run for exercise and think nothing of it but tonight I was so mad
I made extra-good time, I fancy. Now don't you worry, but compose
your mind and 'sip your dish of tea,' as Evelina says," answered Mac,
artfully turning the conversation from himself.