had been his first love, and for
whose son he had really done so little.

'Jerry,' he said, 'I guess you have cleaned house long enough. Wash your
hands and come to me.'

She obeyed him, and looking into his face, said:

'Now, what? can you play cat's cradle or casino?'

'No; I want to talk to you of Harold. You love him very much?'

'Oh, a hundred bushels--him and grandma, too.'

'And he is very kind to you?'

'Yes, I guess he is. He never talks back, and I am awful sometimes, and
once I spit at him, and struck him; but I was so sorry and cried all
night, and offered to give him my best doll 'cause it was the plaything
I loved most, and I went without my piece of pie so he could have two
pieces if he wanted,' Jerry said, her voice trembling as she made this
confession, which gave Arthur a better insight into her real character
than he had had before.

Hasty, impulsive, repentant, generous, and very affectionate, he felt
sure she was, and he continued;

'Does Harold go to school?'

'Yes; and I too--to the district; but I hate it!' Jerry replied.

'Why hate it?' Arthur asked. 'What is the matter with the district
school?'

'Oh, it smells awful there sometimes when it is hot,' Jerry replied with
an upward turn to her nose. 'And the boys are so mean, some of them.
Bill Peterkin goes there and I can't bear him, he plagues me so. Wants
to kiss me. A-a-h, and says I am to be his wife, and he has got warts on
his thumb!'

Jerry's face was sufficiently indicative of the disgust she felt for
Bill Peterkin with his warts, and leaning back in his chair, Arthur
laughed heartily, as he said:

'And you do not like Bill Peterkin? Well, what boys do you like?'

'Harold and Dick St. Claire,' was the prompt response, and Arthur
continued:

'What would you have in place of the district school?'

'A governess,' was Jerry's answer. 'Nina St. Claire has one, and Ann
Eliza Peterkin has one, and Maude Tracy has one.'

Here Jerry stopped suddenly, as if struck with a new idea.

'Why, Maude is your little girl, isn't she? You are her rich uncle, and
she is to have all your money when you die. I wish I was your little
girl.'

She spoke the last very sadly, and something in the expression of her
face brought Gretchen to Arthur's mind, and his voice was choked as he
said to her:

'I'd give half my fortune if you were my little girl.'

Then laying his hand on her bright hair, he questioned her adroitly of
her life at t