w do you do? Delighted to meet you.
It's very warm."

"How came you so far out in the country afoot?" I asked.

"I had some business at Melton, and lost the 2:30 train back to town,
so I started to walk to Linwood with the purpose of taking a train on
the other road. They told me it was only a mile and a half, but--." And
he sighed significantly.

"How fortunate that we met you," said Mrs. Pinkerton quickly, taking the
words out of my mouth. "Get in and ride to Linwood with us. We have a
vacant seat, you see."

I seconded her invitation, and without much hesitation he accepted, and
took a seat by my side. The conversation turned naturally upon the
"young couple" (Bessie and I were no longer referred to in that way),
and Mr. Desmond extolled his niece unreservedly. Mother-in-law was
evidently somewhat impressed, but I think she made some mental
reservations.

"Will you smoke, Mr. Desmond?" I asked, offering him a cigar.

"No, I thank you."

"Oh, I had forgotten you did not approve of the habit. Excuse me."

Mrs. Pinkerton explained to Mr. Desmond, apologetically, that I was an
irresponsible victim of the nicotine poison. I laughed, but Mr. Desmond
received the explanation solemnly, and expressed his abhorrence for "the
weed."

The old gentleman professed great admiration for baby, and said that he
looked exactly like his mother; in fact, the resemblance was almost
startling.

By the time we had got to Linwood, our passenger had talked himself into
a state of good-humor, and we left him at the railroad station, bowing
and smiling with true old-school _aplomb_.

Bessie thought the ride did Charlie, junior, good, and so it became a
regular thing, on pleasant afternoons, to take him out for a little
airing. Mrs. Pinkerton overcame her scruples, and usually accompanied
us. A sample of the sweet converse held with my son and heir on the back
seat will suffice:--

"Sodywazzaleetlecatchykums! 'Esoodavaboobangy! Mamma's cunnin'
kitten-baby!"

One day, just before noon, when I had been making a mental calculation
as to how I should be able to cover the livery-stable bill, a fine
equipage stopped in front of the bank, and through the window I saw the
stately driver hand a note to our errand-boy. In a moment Tommy appeared
in the room and handed me the billet, which ran thus:--

MY DEAR MR. TRAVERS,--I trust you will not take it amiss if I
send my coachman out your way once in a while to exercise the