my progress, as he
said inquiringly, 'This is Miss Wade, I believe?'

I turned and looked at him, as the light fell upon his figure from the
open doorway--large and well proportioned, with the kind of face that
one sees among the heroes of a college 'commencement,' or the successful
candidates for diplomas--half manly, half boyish, with a firm mouth and
laughing eyes; and he immediately added, 'I have come to conduct you to
your boarding house.'

I concluded that he was either a son or nephew of 'Elihu Summers,'
possibly an assistant in the school; and I felt glad at the prospect of
some congenial society.

The walk to the boarding house was not a long one, and we said very
little on the way. My companion had quietly relieved me of my small
articles of baggage; and I had mechanically taken the offered arm as
though I had known him all my life. I could not see much of the town in
the dark, and what I did see did not impress me with a very exalted idea
of its liveliness--the inhabitants apparently considering it sinful to
show any lights in the fronts of their houses, except an occasional
glimmering over the hall door.

My companion suddenly turned, mounted two steps, and lifted a knocker.
The sound, at first, produced no reply; but presently a sound of
unbolting and unbarring ensued, and the door was opened, as Morgiana
would have opened it to let in the forty thieves. A small, pale man,
with whitish eyes, and gray hair standing on end, peered at us rather
inhospitably; and on the lower step of the staircase a tallow candle, in
a brass candlestick, emitted the brilliant light that tallow candles
usually do.

We effected an entrance by some miracle; and once in that full blaze of
light, the old man exclaimed:

'Oh, Mr. Summers, so it is you, is it? I was kind of puzzled to make out
_who_ 'twas. And is this the new teacher you've brought along, or a
boarding scholar? Looks about as much like one as t'other.'

With a smile, I was introduced as 'Miss Wade;' and just as a pleasant
matronly looking woman made her appearance, the old man seized me in an
unexpected embrace, observing, quite as a matter of course, 'I always
kiss nice-looking young gals.'

'Not always,' thought I, giving him a desperate push that sent him,
where he more properly belonged, to the arms of Mrs. Bull, who
opportunely arrived in time to restore his equilibrium.

I suppose my cheeks were blazing, they felt so hot, for the good wife
gently re