ly to remember the
lateness of the hour, and started to leave the room. As he did so his
eyes fell upon a table on which a few books were lying.

"You must find these lively," he said, turning them over and reading
their titles aloud. "'Pilgrim's Progress,' 'Foxe's Martyrs,'
'Doddridge's Rise and Fall,' 'Memoir of Payson,' all solid and good, but
a little heavy, 'United States History,' improving, but
tedious,--and,--upon my word, 'The Frozen Pirate'! That is jolly! Have
you read it?"

Before Eloise could reply Mrs. Biggs exclaimed, "Of course she hasn't,
and I don't know how under the sun it got in here, unless Tim put it
here unbeknownst to me. I never read novels, and that is the wust I ever
got hold of, and the biggest lie. I told Tim so."

She took it from the table and carried it from the room, followed by the
young men, who laughed as they thought how the widow, who never read
novels, betrayed the fact that she had read "The Frozen Pirate."

CHAPTER XII

THE MARCH OF EVENTS

"I say, Howard," Jack began, when they were out upon the road, "that
girl ought to have something besides 'The Frozen Pirate' and 'Foxe's
Martyrs' to brighten her up,--books and flowers, and other things. Do
you think she'd take them?"

Howard's head was cooler than Jack's, and he replied, "She would resent
gifts from us, but would take them from Amy. Anyhow, we can try that
dodge."

"By Jove, you are right! We can send her a lot of things with Mrs. Amy's
compliments," Jack exclaimed. "Flowers and books and candy, and--"

He did not finish what was in his mind, but the next morning,
immediately after breakfast, he pretended that he had an errand in the
village, and started off alone, preferring to walk, he said, when Howard
suggested the carriage, and also declining Howard's company, which was
rather faintly offered. Howard never cared to walk when he could drive,
and then he had a plan which he could better carry out with Jack away
than with him present. He was more interested in Eloise than he would
like to confess to Jack or any one, and he found himself thinking of her
constantly and wishing he could do something to make her more
comfortable than he was sure she could be even in Mrs. Biggs's parlor.
He was very fastidious in his tastes, and Mrs. Biggs's parlor was a
horror to him, with its black hair-cloth furniture, and especially the
rocker in which Eloise sat, and out of which she seemed in danger of
slipping every