nt eyes upon his face were, to his
thinking, past humorous.

Then he laid a hand upon each of the boy's little homespun shoulders.
"Go and see Doctor Prescott, and tell him your plan, and--if he does
not approve of it, come here and let me know," he said, and seriously
enough to suit even Jerome's jealous self-respect.

"Yes, sir," said Jerome.

"And," added the Squire, "you had better go a little after noon--you
will be more likely to find him at home."

"Yes, sir."

"Are you afraid to go out alone after dark?" asked the Squire.

"No, sir," replied Jerome, proudly.

"Well, then," said the Squire, "come and see me this evening, and
tell me what Doctor Prescott says."

"Yes, sir," replied Jerome, and bobbed his head, and turned to go.
The Squire moved before him with his lounging gait, and opened the
door for him with ceremony, as for an honored guest.

Out in the south entry, with her back against the opposite wall, well
removed from the south-room door, that she might not hear one word
not intended for her ears, stood Lucina waiting, with one little
white hand clinched tight, as over a treasure. When her father came
out, following Jerome, she ran forward to him, pulled his head down
by a gentle tug at his long beard, and whispered. Squire Eben laughed
and smoothed her hair, but looked at her doubtfully. "I don't know
about it, Pretty," he whispered back.

"Please, father," she whispered again, and rubbed her soft cheek
against his great arm, and he laughed again, and looked at her as a
man looks at the apple of his eye.

"Well," said he, "do as you like, Pretty." With that the little
Lucina sprang eagerly forward before Jerome, who, hardly certain
whether he were dismissed or not, yet eager to be gone, was edging
towards the outer door, and held out to him her little hand curved
into a sweet hollow like a cup of pearl, all full of silver coins.

Jerome looked at her, gave a quick, shamed glance at the little
outstretched hand, colored red, and began backing away.

But Lucina pressed forward, thrusting in his very face her little
precious cup of treasure. "Please take this, boy," said she, and her
voice rang soft and sweet as a silver flute. "It is money I've been
saving up to buy a parrot. But a parrot is a noisy bird, mother says,
and maybe I could not love it as well as I love my lamb, and so its
feelings would be hurt. I don't want a parrot, after all, and I want
you to take this and buy some shoes