w 'Zeke can
let that feller board in his house, but I suppose he does it to let us
folks see that he don't care. Well, Huldy Mason is a bright little girl,
and I always liked her. That city chap don't mean to marry her, and if I
don't make the best of my chances when I get to teaching her music, my
name ain't Obadiah Strout, which I guess it is." And he walked across
the square to Hill's grocery to smoke his morning cigar.

On the way to Eastborough Centre Quincy wondered what he would do with
Huldy when he arrived there. He did not care to take her to the
Poorhouse, and particularly he did not wish her to see his uncle. Quincy
was proud, but he was also sensible, and he decided upon a course of
action that would prevent any one from saying that his pride had made
him do a foolish act.

As they neared the Poorhouse Quincy turned to Huldy and said, "The Jim
Sawyer who has been at the Eastborough Poorhouse for the last five years
is my father's brother and my uncle. His story is a very sad one. I will
tell it to you some day. He is in the last stages of consumption, and I
am taking Miss Miller over to care for him while he lives."

Huldy nodded, and nothing more was said until they reached the
Poorhouse. Quincy jumped out and called to Sam, who was close at hand,
to hold the horse. Sam looked at him with a peculiar expression that
Quincy did not stop to fathom, but running up the short flight of steps
entered the room that served as the office for the Poorhouse. Mr. Waters
was there writing at his desk. He turned as Quincy entered.

"How is my uncle?" asked Quincy.

"He is better off than us poor mortals," replied Mr. Waters with a
long-drawn countenance.

"What do you mean?" asked Quincy. "Is he dead?"

"Yes," said Mr. Waters, "he died about four o'clock this mornin'. Sam
sat up with him till midnight, and I stayed with him the balance of the
time."

"I am so sorry I was not here," said Quincy.

"It wouldn't have done any good," said Waters. "He didn't know what was
going on after two o'clock, and you couldn't have been of any use if
you'd been here. If 't had been daytime I should have sent over for you.
He only spoke once after I went upstairs and that was to say that you
would see to buryin' him."

"Yes," said Quincy, "I will take charge of the remains."

"Well," remarked Mr. Waters, "I called in the town undertaker and he has
got him all ready."

"When does the next train leave for Boston?" asked Quinc