noisily, shaking his head.
When he came about once more, and emerged from behind the square of
white linen, not only did he look as if he were blushing violently, but
even his eyes were a little red.

"Are you going to ask me to sit down?" he asked, smiling.

"Oh, I am! I do! Oh, what's the matter with me t'day! I forgit
ev'rything!"

The young man chose the morris chair.

It was then that Johnnie realized how untidy the kitchen was, remembered
that he had not washed the old soldier's face, or his own, or got rid of
that apron. With fumbling fingers and mounting color, he slipped the
apron strings over his tangled hair. "How'd I come t' have _this_ thing
on!" he exclaimed, and looked at the apron as if he had never seen it
before.

The young man seemed not to notice either Johnnie's confusion or the
soiled badge of girlish service. "You can call me Mr. Perkins, if you
like," he said pleasantly. "And tell me--what've you been doing with
yourself since I saw you?"

Again sunlight focused upon Johnnie's face. "Well, mostly," he replied,
"--mostly, I been jus' waitin' for you." He seated himself on the
kitchen chair.

"Now, you don't mean it!" cried Mr. Perkins, blushing again. "Well,
bless your heart, old fellow! Waiting for me! I wish I could've come
sooner. But I've been, pretty busy--up to my ears!"

"Oh, that's all right," Johnnie assured him. "'Cause I filled in the
wait good 'nough. I jus' kept thinkin' you here, and ev'ry mornin'
Grandpa and me'd have you 'long with us when we went t' Niaggery, or
anywheres else; and ev'ry night, Cis'd take you with us, callin' on the
Queen, or buyin' at the stores, or goin' t' grand balls."

After that, Mr. Perkins did not have anything to say for as much as a
whole minute, but sat looking earnestly at his small host, and blinking
a good deal. Then, "I see," he said finally. "That's nice. Mighty nice.
I'm glad. And--and I hope I conducted myself all right."

"Oh, you was fine! Always!" declared Johnnie, his voice breaking, he was
so emphatic. "Cis never could dance with One-Eye, and not jus' 'cause he
wears spurs, neither. No, she thinks One-Eye's too homely to dance, or
go callin', or take t' Wanamaker's. But, oh, she says you're jus' fine!
Maybe not as grand as the Prince of Wales, she says, but then she's
awful silly about him."

More steady looking; more blinking. "Well,--er--what did you say the
little girl's name is?"

"Her full name's Narcissa Amy Way," answ