und himself wondering if,
after all, under the surface, Miss Muster might not have more feeling
than she chose to let people believe.

He actually began to like her. And more than ever did he hope that
something might come along to enable him to bring about a better
understanding between the rich old maid and her once favorite nephew,
now under an unmerited cloud.

"Sit down a few minutes, Fred," she continued. "And get your breath
back after all the exertion of lugging that heavy ladder up here. Then
I'd like you to take it back to where you found it. And I think I've
got a book you'd like to own. I did mean to give it to Andrew on his
birthday next week, but I have changed my mind."

Fred did not exactly like the way she pursed up her thin lips when she
said this. She was doing Bristles an injustice, he felt sure. Of course
he could not decline to take the book she meant to present him with, as
pay for his services; but in his mind, as he was carrying back the
ladder, Fred was determined that he would consider that it belonged to
Bristles, and not himself.

Once more he entered the living room, where he found Miss Muster
waiting for him, seated in her easy chair. The raven sat on his perch,
with all his feathers ruffled up, as though he knew he was in disgrace
with his indulgent mistress.

"Here is the book I want you to accept from me, Fred, and I hope you
will enjoy reading it," and as she said this she held out a volume,
which he saw was just such as a boy who loved athletic games would most
enjoy.

"Thank you, ma'am," he hastened to say, seeing his opening. "I know I
will like it; but I feel bad because you meant it for Bristles--I mean
your nephew, Andrew."

She frowned at once.

"Please forget all about him just now, Fred," she said, decisively.
"It's hard work for me to keep him out of my mind; but I never could
bear deception; and, as for a sly little rascal, who looks you in the
face, and denies everything, when you know he is _positively_ guilty,
bah! I wash my hands of him forever. I could never believe him again,
never!"

"But Miss Muster, he is innocent," said Fred; at which she started
violently, and looked keenly at him.

"Then he has fooled you as well as me," she snapped. "I warrant you he
is chuckling in his sleeve right now because he managed to deceive me
so handily. Much he cares about my feelings, when I was beginning to
have a foolish old woman's dreams about Andrew inheriting all