and the warmth of the
fire had lent an unusual color to her cheeks and a more golden gleam to
her hair. As he looked at the sweet picture his courage began to leave
him. "No, not yet," he said to himself, "she will think me a fool."

"Let's pop some corn," said Liddy suddenly, still anxious to say
anything or do anything to break what seemed to her his unhappy train of
thought; "the fire is just right."

She waited for no answer, but stepped quickly into the kitchen and
returned with a long-handled popper, three small ears of popcorn, and a
dish.

"There," she said, cheerfully, "you hold the popper while I shell the
corn. I am going to make you work now, to drive away the blues. I
believe it's the best medicine for you."

There is no doubt she understood his needs better than he supposed, for
with the popping of the corn the cloud upon his face wore away. When it
came time to go Liddy rested her hand a moment on his arm and said, in a
low voice: "Charlie, we have known each other for a good many years, and
have been very good friends. I am going to give you a little advice:
Don't borrow trouble, and don't brood over your future so much. It will
shape itself all in due time, and you will win your way as other men
have done. I have faith in you."

Her brave and sisterly words cheered him wonderfully, and when he had
gone Liddy sat down a moment to watch the dying embers. She, too, had
felt the contagion of his mood, and strange to say, his hopes and fears
were insensibly merging themselves into her own. She watched the fading
fire for a full half hour, absorbed in retrospection, and then lighting
a small lamp and turning out the large one, she walked down the hall and
upstairs to her room.

"I wish that clock wouldn't tick so loud," she thought as she reached
her door, "it makes the house sound like a tomb."

CHAPTER X.

HISTORY.

From the time Manson, as a barefooted boy, caught trout in Ragged Brook,
until the winter of '62, when, a sturdy young man of eighteen, he had
fallen deeply in love with Liddy Camp, a few changes had taken place in
Southton. Three different principals had been in charge of the academy,
one of these, a Mr. Snow, being very capable and universally popular.
Later, when Mr. Webber succeeded to that position, the question of
popularity may have been considered an open one. We must do him the
justice to say he was efficient, however, and if he had an exaggerated
idea of his own im