below him.
Contrary to the custom of most boys, he bore his added inches with
perfect ease, and had entirely escaped the stage of awkward
consciousness, which falls to the lot of nearly all growing lads. Even
now, young as he was, there was a quiet dignity in his manner which,
combined with his manly figure, made it seem high time that he should
take the first marked step towards man's estate, and leave off
knickerbockers. The new suit, ordered from New York, had come that day;
and Charlie had dressed himself up in it, and appeared before Allie, to
demand her respectful attention.

Had Charlie attired himself in a checked apron and sunbonnet, it would
have seemed a thoroughly admirable costume to his cousin's eyes; but, on
this particular evening, Allie's praise was well-merited, for the new
suit was unmistakably a success. Charlie was one of those few, but
fortunate boys who can wear even shabby clothes with an air that gives
them a certain elegance; and he had grace enough to enable him to escape
the usual awkwardness, which comes to the young girl in managing her
first train, to the boy in appearing in his first long suit. As Allie
had said it made him look much older and more dignified, until she
almost felt that she had lost her jovial playfellow, and stood in the
presence of a fine young man. Still, she liked the change, as long as it
really was the same old Charlie; and she continued to watch him, while a
little contented smile gathered about the corners of her mouth.

"Yes," she repeated; "I should hardly have known you. Come here a
minute, and I can change you so you wouldn't recognize yourself a bit."

Charlie laughed at the seriousness of her tone, as he seated himself on
the arm of her chair, while she patted and poked at his hair, until she
had parted it in the middle and brushed it away from his forehead, where
it usually lay in a close, short fringe. She studied the effect for a
moment; then she gently pulled off his glasses.

"Poor old boy!" she said caressingly, as she drew her finger down along
the narrow white scar that crossed his upper lid. "You still carry your
beauty-spot; don't you? I wish 'twould go away."

"What for? Does it show so very much?" asked Charlie.

"No, not a bit, with your glasses on; but I never like to think back to
that horrid day," she replied, with a frown. "I was sure you were going
to die, or something."

"Well, I didn't. You see, I'm tough," returned Charlie placidly