er light."

"That is very true," answered Mrs. Goddard, thoughtfully. "It never
struck me before. I wonder whether that is the reason women always like
men who never make any compliments at all?"

The squire's face assumed an amusing expression of inquiry and surprise.

"Is that personal?" he asked.

"Oh--of course not," answered Mrs. Goddard in some confusion. She blushed
and turning towards the fire took up the poker and pretended to stir the
coals. Women always delight in knocking a good fire to pieces, out of
pure absence of mind. John Short saw the movement and, escaping suddenly
from the maternal conversation of Mrs. Ambrose, threw himself upon his
knee on the hearth-rug and tried to take the poker from his hostess's
hand.

"Oh, Mrs. Goddard, don't! Let me do it--please!" he exclaimed.

"But I can do it very well myself," said she protesting and not relaxing
her hold upon the poker. But John was obstinate in his determination to
save her trouble, and rudely tried to get the instrument away.

"Please don't--you hurt me," said Mrs. Goddard petulantly.

"Oh--I beg your pardon--I wanted to help you," said John leaving his
hold. "I did not really hurt you--did I?" he asked, almost tenderly.

"Dreadfully," replied Mrs. Goddard, half angry and half amused at his
impatience and subsequent contrition. The squire sat complacently in his
chair, watching the little scene. John hated him more than ever, and grew
very red. Mrs. Goddard saw the boy's embarrassment and presently
relented.

"I daresay you will do it better than I," she said, handing him the
poker, which John seized with alacrity. "That big coal--there," she
added, pointing to a smouldering block in the corner of the grate.

"I did not mean to be rude," said John. "I only wanted to help you." He
knelt by her side poking the fire industriously. "I only wanted to get a
chance to talk to you," he added, in a low voice, barely audible to Mrs.
Goddard as she leaned forward.

"I am afraid you cannot do that just now," she said, not unkindly, but
with the least shade of severity in her tone. "You will get dreadfully
hot if you stay there, so near the fire."

"I don't mind the heat in the least," said John heroically. Nevertheless
as she did not give him any further encouragement he was presently
obliged to retire, greatly discomfited. He could not spend the evening on
his knees with the poker in his hand.

"Bad failure," remarked the squire in an undertone