ust five minutes the faster, concluded that both
were wrong just two minutes and a half, and he would split the difference.
He might be mistaken, but if he was he would consult the town clock
to-morrow.

Mr. Hardesty resumed the poker and stirred the fire until its bright blaze
threw a broad glare over the chamber; and out of the glowing coals he
built strange towers and castles, and saw them change by turns into ashes,
and grow dim like his own recent dreams of love. This being a melancholy
contemplation, he lent his ear to a solitary cricket that was cheerily
singing its household song, though the winds were wild without. Presently
the cricket ceased its chirrup, and Mr. Hardesty growing tired of sitting,
yawned, stretched himself, and walked to the window.

Outside, the ground was covered with a wild waste of snow, and the heavy
flakes were still falling. Suddenly it occurred to him that somebody might
accidentally pass that way and recognize him; so he let fall the curtain
and walked across the room. Here, lifting his eyes from the floor, a
looking-glass stared him in the face, and he started back. He turned again
and walked to the bed-side where Dick was sleeping. The boy, he thought,
might one day be his nephew, and he revolved in his mind a thousand
schemes for advancing him in the world and making him a clever fellow.

Mr. Hardesty left the bed-side and looked up at the ceiling. Beyond that,
he thought, was the adored Miss Sidebottom. What a narrow space sundered
them! He walked to the fire-place and looked on the mantel for a book. He
selected an old copy of Burns, and opened at the pathetic ballad of 'John
Anderson.' Mr. Hardesty sat down and read it once aloud. Then he read it
to himself over and over again, until he had gotten it by heart. And then
by degrees the room swam dizzily before him, the fire glowed like a pale
meteor, his eyes closed heavily, the open book fell from his hand, and Mr.
Hardesty was asleep.

He slept and dreamed. Smiles like those of sleeping infancy stole over his
venerable features. In one short moment he was the happiest man alive; his
love had been crowned with success; and putting forth his hand to grasp
the dear shadow, he lost his balance and fell from his chair.

Mr. Hardesty looked around him, wondering. He resumed his seat and rubbed
his eyes. The fire had almost gone out. The wick was long and dim. He
looked at the clock; it wanted just twenty minutes of midnight.

Mr.