o' know but I can fetch Nancy as well as not.
But how'd ye get home, Nancy? Could ye walk over to our place from the
Milton depot, or couldn't ye?"

"Why, of course I could!" answered his niece, with a joy calmed by
discretion.

"'T ain't but a mile an' three quarters; 't won't hurt a State 'o
Maine girl," said the old man, smiling under his great cap, so that
his cold, shrewd eyes suddenly grew blue and boyish. "I know all about
ye now, Mr. Aldis; I used to be well acquainted with your grandfather.
Much obliged to you. Yes, I'll fetch Nancy. I'll leave her right up
there to the Missionary Building, corner o' Somerset Street. She can
wait in the bookstore; it's liable to be open early. After I get
through business to-day, I'm goin' to leave the hoss, an' let her see
Faneuil Hall, an' the market o' course, and I don't know but we shall
stop in to the Old South Church; or you can show her that, an' tell
her about any other curiosities, if we don't have time."

Nancy looked radiant, and Tom Aldis accepted his trust with
satisfaction. At that moment the blockade was over and teams began to
move.

"Not if it rains!" said uncle Ezra, speaking distinctly over his
shoulder as they started. "Otherwise expect her about eight or a
little"--but the last of the sentence was lost.

Nancy looked back and nodded from the tangle to Tom, who stood on the
curbstone with his hands in his pockets. Her white hood bobbed out of
sight the next moment in School Street behind a great dray.

"Good gracious! eight o'clock!" said Tom, a little daunted, as he
walked quickly up the street. As he passed the Missionary Building and
the bookstore, he laughed aloud; but as he came near the clubhouse
again, in this victorious retreat, he looked up at a window of one of
the pleasant old houses, and then obeyed the beckoning nod of an
elderly relative who seemed to have been watching for his return.

"Tom," said she, as he entered the library, "I insist upon it that I
am not curious by nature or by habit, but what in the world made you
chase that funny old horse and sleigh?"

"A pretty girl," said Tom frankly.

II.

The second morning after this unexpected interview was sunshiny
enough, and as cold as January could make it. Tom Aldis, being young
and gay, was apt to keep late hours at this season, and the night
before had been the night of a Harvard assembly. He was the
kindest-hearted fellow in the world, but it was impossible not to feel
a