"Mandy must have looked pretty, with her light curly hair and blue eyes,
and those rosy cheeks."

"Well," said Mrs. Hawkins reflectively, "I'm her mother, and a course
I'm prejoodished, but I honestly think she was the best lookin' one of
the three. Of course Hiram is no beauty, and I'm all out of patience
when he tries to talk to me. But I know he'll make Mandy a good husband,
and that's a tarnal sight better'n good looks."

"What color was Mandy's dress?" persisted Betsy.

"Lord a massy," cried Mrs. Hawkins, "I e'en a'most forgot to tell yer.
Her dress was a very light blue silk, with a lace overskirt, 'bout the
same as Tilly's. Mr. Sawyer gave her two hundred dollars to buy her
things with, 'cause she's been so nice to him since he boarded at
Pettengill's."

"Who was that stylish lookin' lady that came in a carriage with the four
beautiful horses? I saw her outer the attic winder."

"She was a Mrs. Chessman," replied Mrs. Hawkins. I heern tell she's a
widder'd aunt of Mr. Sawyer's, and she's as rich as Creazers."

"How rich is that?" inquired Betsey, with an astonished look.

"Creazers," replied Mrs. Hawkins, with an expression that savored of
erudition, "was a man who was so all fired rich that he had to hire
folks to spend his money for him."

At that moment a step was heard in the dining-room, and both Mrs.
Hawkins and Betsy flew to wait upon the new-comer who proved to be Mr.
Quincy Adams Sawyer. As he took his seat at the table the Connecticut
clock on the mantelpiece struck ten.

At eleven o'clock that same morning Mr. Sawyer knocked at the front door
of Mr. Ezekiel Pettengill's residence. How strange it seemed, how much
more homelike it would have been to have entered by the back door and to
have come through the kitchen and dining-room, as of old. But no! He was
not a regular boarder now, only an occasional visitor.

The door was opened by young Mrs. Maxwell, and her usually rosy cheeks
were ruddier than ever when she saw who the caller was.

"Is Miss Pettengill in?" Quincy politely inquired.

"She's in the parlor, sir; won't you walk in?" And she threw open the
door of the room in which Alice sat by the fire.

"Do I disturb your dreams, Miss Pettengill?" asked Quincy, as he reached
her side.

"I'm so glad you have come, Mr. Sawyer," said Alice, extending her hand.
"I never was so lonesome in my life as I have been this morning. The
house seems deserted. Uncle Ike ate too many good things ye