Mr. Jim Brett laughed, and kept his hat off, which made him look very
nice with the dappling green and gold light waving over his thick,
short black hair, and his forehead, which is whiter than the rest of
his face.

He had on better clothes than he had worn on shipboard, but they were
blue serge, with the air of having been bought ready made at a cheap
shop. In spite of them, however, he looked very handsome, and every
inch of him a gentleman. I don't think many men, even in Stan's set,
could wear those badly-cut things and look as he did in them, though he
does have to travel in the steerage.

I asked Sally if I might introduce Mr. Brett to her, and she said yes,
and smiled up so sweetly that I was delighted, because, for all her
talk about Nature's noblemen, I felt I didn't know her well enough to
be quite sure how she would take it. But she talked to him charmingly,
and complimented him upon his bravery on shipboard. "Every one of us
admired you for it," she said, "and I'm very glad to meet you this
morning."

Mr. Brett thanked her, and of course said how pleased he was, too. "I
am taking a holiday," he added, looking at me. I was glad to hear that,
because, seeing him out at this time, the thought had occurred to me
that he might have lost his employment at the club. But I only answered
that it was a lovely day for a holiday, and that I didn't believe he
could find a better place to spend part of it than in Central Park.

"Have you fed the squirrels yet?" he asked.

"Oh, no, can one do that?" I exclaimed. "I should love it."

"May I go and get some peanuts?" he said to Sally.

"Do," she said, in her pleasant, friendly way, which was just as nice
for him as it had been for Stan, or nicer. "We will go on to the
wistaria arbour and wait for you. There are always lots of squirrels
there."

Vivace broke away from me again and followed him, but still Sally
seemed to take no notice. "That's certainly a very handsome fellow,"
she said, "and we can be sure that he's worthy to be trusted, because
the wrong sort of men don't jump overboard at sea to save the lives of
children they don't know. That is why I feel perfectly safe in being
nice to him, and letting you be nice. I reckon he is a Southern man."

"How can you tell?" I asked.

"Oh, a little by that good-looking brown face of his, perhaps, but more
by his way of speaking. You English people lump us all together, for
our 'American accent,' but we can tell w