torm,
and of something else you had not told me, Boy: of your bringing her and
Mr. Carver off the flat in the boat that day. Why did you keep that a
secret?"

"It was not worth telling."

"She thought it was. She laughed about it; said you handled the affair
in a most businesslike and unsentimental way; she never felt more like
a bundle of dry-goods in her life, but that that appeared to be your
manner of handling people. It was a somewhat startling manner, but very
effective, she said. I don't know what she meant by that."

I knew, but I did not explain.

"You don't mean to say, Mother, that you glorified me to her for an
hour?" I demanded.

"No, indeed. We talked of ever so many things. Of books, and pictures,
and music. I'm afraid I was rather wearisome. It seemed so good to have
some one--except you, of course, dear--to discuss such subjects with.
Most of my callers are not interested in them."

I was silent.

"She is coming again, she says," continued Mother. "She has some new
books she is going to lend me. You must read them to me. And aren't
those roses wonderful? She picked them, herself, in their conservatory.
I told her how fond you were of flowers."

I judged that the young lady must have gone away with the idea that I
was a combination of longshore lout and effeminate dilettante, with the
financial resources of the former. She might as well have that idea as
any other, I supposed, but, in her eyes, I must be more of a freak than
ever. I should take care to keep out of the sight of those eyes as much
as possible. But that the millionaire's daughter had made a hit on the
occasion of her first call was plain. Not only had Mother been favorably
impressed, but even the practical and unromantic Dorinda's shell was
dented. She deigned to observe that the young lady seemed to have
"consider'ble common-sense, considerin' her bringin' up." This, from
Dorinda, was high praise, and I wondered what the caller had said or
done to win such a triumph. Lute made the matter clear.

"By time!" he said, when he and I were together, "that girl's a smart
one. I'd give somethin' to have her kind of smartness. Dorindy was
terrible cranky all the time she was in your ma's room and I didn't know
what would happen when she come out. But the fust thing she done when
she come out was to look around the dinin' room and say, 'Oh! what a
pleasant, homey place! And so clean! Why, it is perfectly spotless!'
Land sakes! the old la