rto Miguel Carlos Speranza progressed.
At the end of the first six weeks in South Harniss he had learned a
little about bookkeeping, a little about selling hardware, a little
about measuring and marking lumber. And it must be admitted that that
little had been acquired, not because of vigorous application on the
part of the pupil, but because, being naturally quick and intelligent,
he could not help learning something. He liked the work just as little
as he had in the beginning of his apprenticeship. And, although he was
forgetting his thoughts of running away, of attempting fortune on his
own hook, he was just as rebellious as ever against a future to be spent
in that office and at that work.

Outside the office and the hateful bookkeeping he was beginning to find
several real interests. At the old house which had for generations been
called "the Snow place," he was beginning to feel almost at home. He
and his grandmother were becoming close friends. She was not looking for
trouble, she never sat for long intervals gazing at him as if she were
guessing, guessing, guessing concerning him. Captain Zelotes did that,
but Olive did not. She had taken the boy, her "Janie's boy," to her
heart from the moment she saw him and she mothered him and loved him in
a way which--so long as it was not done in public--comforted his lonely
soul. They had not yet reached the stage where he confided in her to
any great extent, but that was certain to come later. It was his
grandmother's love and the affection he was already beginning to feel
for her which, during these first lonesome, miserable weeks, kept him
from, perhaps, turning the running away fantasy into a reality.

Another inmate of the Snow household with whom Albert was
becoming better acquainted with was Mrs. Rachel Ellis. Their real
acquaintanceship began one Sunday forenoon when Captain Zelotes and
Olive had gone to church. Ordinarily he would have accompanied them,
to sit in the straight-backed old pew on a cushion which felt lumpy and
smelt ancient and musty, and pretend to listen while old Mr. Kendall
preached a sermon which was ancient and musty likewise.

But this Sunday morning he awoke with a headache and his grandmother had
pleaded for him, declaring that he ought to "lay to bed" a while and get
over it. He got over it with surprising quickness after the church bell
ceased ringing, and came downstairs to read Ivanhoe in the sitting room.
He had read it several times