what I did."

"No, indeed I do not," Violet returned, earnestly, and then, overcome by
the sudden realization of what she had done--that he was almost a
stranger and she had been guilty of a rash and perhaps unmaidenly act--a
burning blush leaped to the roots of her hair, and for the moment she
was speechless from shame and embarrassment.

"Pardon me," she said, after an awkward silence. "I forgot myself--I
forgot everything but that I owe you my life."

Then tossing back her head and shooting a half appealing, half defiant
look at him, to cover her confusion, she said, with a bewitching little
pout:

"But now that I have come to call upon you, Mr. Richardson, aren't you
going to entertain me?"

The change from embarrassment to this pretty piquancy was so
instantaneous and so charming that Wallace's face grew luminous with
admiration and delight. A smile wreathed his lips, and there came a look
into his eyes that made her flush consciously again.

"Certainly; I shall only be too happy. What can I do to amuse you? Shall
I read to you?"

Violet shrugged her shoulders.

"No, talk to me," she said, with pretty imperiousness. "I have been shut
up so long that I am pining for entertaining society."

Wallace flushed at this. He was not used to talking to fine young
ladies; he had been very little in society, and had met but very few
people in fashionable life. His days were occupied by work, for he had
to support himself and his mother, while his evenings were devoted to
study.

But he really desired to amuse his lovely visitor, and so, going to a
book-case, he took down a large, square book and brought it to her.

"Have you ever seen any agricultural drawings, Miss Huntington?" he
inquired.

"No," Violet said.

"Do you think it would interest you to examine some?"

"Oh, yes," she answered, eagerly.

She would have been interested in anything which he chose to talk about.

"I am glad of that," he returned, "for architecture is to be the
business of my life, and I can talk more fluently upon that subject that
upon any other."

Then he opened the book and began to show her his drawings.

"Since a little boy I have desired to be an architect," he told her,
"and while my father lived I had every advantage which I chose to
improve; but after his death misfortune obliged me to give up school and
to go to work. I chose the carpenter's trade--my father was a contractor
and builder--for I reasoned that a practic