and take you home without calling
on my pa to assist me in the arduous duty." And she went with him.

I was very low-spirited on the way home.

"As sure as I live I'll go and call on her to-morrow evening, and show
her I'm not the fool she thinks I am," I said, between my gritted
teeth. "I'll take her a new sash to replace the one I spoiled at the
picnic, and we'll see who's the best fellow, Hencoop or I."

The next afternoon I measured off four yards of the sweetest
sash-ribbon ever seen in Babbletown, and charged myself with seven
dollars--half my month's salary, as agreed upon between father and
me--and rolled up the ribbon in white tissue paper, preparatory to the
event of the evening.

"Where are you going?" father asked, as I edged out of the store just
after dark.

"Oh, up the street a piece."

"Well, here's a pair o' stockings to be left at the Widow Jones'. Just
call as you go by and leave 'em, will you?"

I stuck the little bundle he gave me in my coat-tail pocket; but by
the time I passed the Widow Jones' house I was so taken up with the
business on hand that I forgot all about the stockings.

I could see Miss Marigold sitting at the piano and hear her singing as
I passed the window. It was awful nice, and, to prolong the pleasure,
I stayed outside about half an hour, then a summer shower came up, and
I made up my mind and rang the bell. Jane came to the door.

"Is the squire at home?" says I.

"No, sir, he's down to the hotel; but Miss Marigold, she's to hum,"
said the black girl, grinning. "Won't you step in? Miss will be
dreffle sorry her pa is out."

She took my hat and opened the parlor door; there was a general
dazzle, and I bowed to somebody and sat down somewhere, and in about
two minutes the mist cleared away, and I saw Belle Marigold, with a
rose in her hair, sitting not three feet away, and smiling at me as if
coaxing me to say something.

"Quite a shower?" I remarked.

"Indeed--is it raining?" said she.

"Yes, indeed," said I; "it came up very sudden."

"I hope you didn't get wet?" said she, with a sly look.

"Not this time," said I, trying to laugh.

"Does it lighten?" said she.

"A few," said I.

Miss Marigold coughed and looked out of the window. There was a pause
in our brilliant conversation.

"I think we shall have a rainy night," I resumed.

"I'm _so_ afraid of thunder," said she. "I shall not sleep a bit if it
thunders. I shall sit up until the rain is over. I n