the cars. I--I believe I have got some of them
left yet," he said, hesitating, and drawing from his pocket one of those
little white packets of candy so commonly sold on the train.

Mary Grey burst into a peal of soft, silvery laughter as she took them,
and said:

"An ounce of lemon-drops and nothing else for breakfast! Oh, Cupid, God
of Love, and Hebe, Goddess of Health, look here, and settle it between
you!"

"But I do not feel hungry. It is food enough for me to sit here and
feast upon the sight of your face, your beautiful face!"

"You frenzied boy! I see that I must take care of you. Come, now that we
have recovered our breath, we will go on a little further to a nice,
quiet, suburban inn, kept by an old maid. I have never been there
myself, but I have seen it in driving by with the rector's family. It is
such a nice place that the school children go there to have picnic
parties in the grounds. We will go and engage a parlor, and have a quiet
little breakfast or dinner, whichever you may please, for it shall
combine the luxuries of both. Now will you go?" said Mary Grey, rising
from her shady seat.

"Of course, if you wish me to do so; but indeed I do not need anything."

"But I do; for I breakfasted at seven o'clock this morning, before going
to the Sunday-school. It is now one o'clock. I have been fasting six
hours, and as I intend to spend the most of the day with you, I shall
miss our luncheon at home; for, you see, we are deadly fashionable at
the Misses Cranes'. We lunch at two and dine at six. So come along."

Craven Kyte arose and gave her his arm, and they walked on together
until they reached the little cottage, half farmhouse, half hotel, that
was so well-kept by the nice old maiden hostess.

The good woman looked rather surprised to see Sunday visitors walk into
her house.

But Mary Grey, prayer-book ostentatiously in hand, took her aside, out
of the hearing of Craven Kyte, and explained:

"I and my brother walked in from the country to attend church this
morning. We have a carriage and might have ridden, only we do not think
it is right to make the horses work on Sunday, do you?"

"No, miss, I candidly don't; and that's a fact," replied the good
creature.

"Mrs.," amended Mary Grey, with a smile.

"'Mrs.' of course! I beg your pardon, ma'am! But you looked so young,
and I may say childish, and I didn't notice the widow's cap before,"
apologized the hostess.

"Well, as we had no friend