about me, Dick, even if what she
should say were to be all good; and that it wouldn't be, for she speaks
the truth, and I'll tell you for a secret that she doesn't quite approve
of a man that wastes his leisure time as I do. She'd like me better if I
were to come down to the mission every Sunday."

"Well, there ain't anybody at the mission as good as you, except Miss
Callender," objected Dick.

That young lady only laughed and put her arms about Tommy, who had
deserted Millard and was now climbing on her lap.

This encounter advanced Millard's acquaintance with Phillida more than a
dozen calls or conversations in formal society. Phillida was pleased to
find that Millard was not merely a male butterfly, and he in turn felt
strangely drawn to this young woman who had discovered the royal
excellence of Aunt Hannah Martin amid the rubbish of Avenue C. Millard,
who was "just going" when Phillida came in, sat out the half-hour that
she staid, and when she rose to go he asked her if he might have the
pleasure of walking with her as far as Second Avenue. It seemed to him,
though he did not say so, that a young lady needed an escort in that
part of the town; but Phillida, who knew the people better, had no such
thought.

"Thank you, Mr. Millard," she said; "I should be glad of your company.
But I am not going home; I am going to Washington Square: I promised my
aunt that I would go directly there from Sunday-school, and now I've
staid here longer than I intended, and I shall be late."

"Why, I'm expected there too. If you don't object we'll go together."

The two said good-by all around and descended the stairs, holding on to
the narrow steps with their heels, as it were. When they came into the
light, and breathed the cool salt air blowing into the avenue from the
neighboring East River, Phillida, who had something on her mind, said
rather awkwardly:

"I did not know that you were expected at Aunt Harriet's this evening."

The speech was one of maidenly modesty; if Aunt Gouverneur had planned
to bring the two people together at her table, Phillida wished it known
that she was not a party to the plot. But Millard laughed and said:

"If you had known, I am to understand that you would have declined to
go."

"I did not say that I should be sorry to have you there," she answered,
with the hesitancy of one stepping among pitfalls.

"Shall we take the Tenth street car?" asked Millard. "It runs through
Eighth street on th