e in
my dirty gown, and my apron full o' cabbages."

And she dropped the vegetables all over the path as the "gentleman"
came towards us.

I smiled--for, in spite of his transformation, I, at least, had no
difficulty in recognising John Halifax.

He had on new clothes--let me give the credit due to that wonderful
civiliser, the tailor--clothes neat, decent, and plain, such as any
'prentice lad might wear. They fitted well his figure, which had
increased both in height, compactness, and grace. Round his neck was a
coarse but white shirt frill; and over it fell, carefully arranged, the
bright curls of his bonny hair. Easily might Jael or any one else have
"mistaken" him, as she cuttingly said, for a young gentleman.

She looked very indignant, though, when she found out the aforesaid
"mistake."

"What may be thy business here?" she said, roughly.

"Abel Fletcher sent me on a message."

"Out with it then--don't be stopping with Phineas here. Thee bean't
company for him, and his father don't choose it."

"Jael!" I cried, indignantly. John never spoke, but his cheek burnt
furiously.

I took his hand, and told him how glad I was to see him--but, for a
minute, I doubt if he heard me.

"Abel Fletcher sent me here," he repeated, in a well-controlled voice,
"that I might go out with Phineas; if HE objects to my company, it's
easy to say so."

And he turned to me. I think he must have been satisfied then.

Jael retired discomfited, and in her wrath again dropped half of her
cabbages. John picked them up and restored them; but got for thanks
only a parting thrust.

"Thee art mighty civil in thy new clothes. Be off, and be back again
sharp; and, I say, don't thee be leaving the cart o' skins again under
the parlour windows."

"I don't drive the cart now," was all he replied.

"Not drive the cart?" I asked, eagerly, when Jael had disappeared, for
I was afraid some ill chance had happened.

"Only, that this winter I've managed to teach myself to read and add
up, out of your books, you know; and your father found it out, and he
says I shall go round collecting money instead of skins, and it's much
better wages, and--I like it better--that's all."

But, little as he said, his whole face beamed with pride and pleasure.
It was, in truth, a great step forward.

"He must trust you very much, John," said I, at last, knowing how
exceedingly particular my father was in his collectors.

"That's it--that's what