iss Merton, with a
wondering glance at Annie, whose astonishment had not admitted of a
change of position; "and as Mr. Lang heard there you were off on an
excursion, we have been expecting to see you, and caught our first
glimpse as the horses walked up the hill. Won't you introduce us to your
young friend, Mr. Allen?"

"This is Annie Bray, my master's daughter," I stammered, with a keen and
very unpleasant remembrance of Miss Darry's remarks.

Annie rose, and returned with natural ease Miss Merton's smile and
kindly greeting, while Mr. Lang bent over to look at my painting.

"Alice, look here. This is as pretty a bit of water-color as I've ever
seen. A young girl's hand is a gratifying possession, but I am not sure
that I should have stopped with it in the present instance." And he
looked admiringly at Annie's modest beauty.

Miss Merton walked round the stump, and stood behind me.

"It is indeed pretty. Miss Annie's hand suggests the idea that these
blossoms at least were not 'born to blush unseen.' It reminds me of our
object in seeking you, Mr. Allen. A friend," she added, with an arch
look at Mr. Lang, "has been audacious enough to give me a costly
picture. I am to have a few friends to admire it to-morrow evening. I
know you will enjoy it; so I want you to come, too."

"You are very kind, but"----I hesitated.

"But what?" inquired Mr. Lang. "Speak out boldly, Sandy."

"I should not think you would care to have a poor blacksmith with your
friends. Let me come another evening."

"I am sorry, that, judging by your own feelings, you have arrived at
this conclusion," answered Mr. Lang, dryly. "I might have thought, under
similar circumstances, you would have treated us in the same way. Do as
you choose, of course; but remember, blacksmith or artist, no one will
respect you, unless you so thoroughly respect yourself as to hold your
manhood above your profession, and accept every courtesy in the spirit
in which it is offered."

I began to understand that he would guard me from the vanity and
over-sensitiveness which were the natural outgrowth of my position; yet
I reddened at the implied weakness.

"Pray don't mind Mr. Lang's criticisms," said Miss Merton, noticing my
confusion. "You certainly do not doubt the sincerity of our invitation?"

"Not at all," I exclaimed, warmly.

"Then will you not come to-morrow evening?"

Yielding to the fascinating persuasiveness of her manner, I now
consented so readily,