onidas. "Are you going to see her now?" he said
eagerly. "I can show you the house, and then run in and tell her you're
outside in the laurels."

"Not just yet," said Mr. Hamlin, laying his hand on the boy's head
after having restored his own hat. "You see, I thought of giving her a
surprise. A big surprise!" he added slowly. After a pause, he went on:
"Did you tell her what you had seen?"

"Of course I did," said Leonidas reproachfully. "Did you think I was
going to let her get bit? It might have killed her."

"And it might not have been an unmixed pleasure for William Henry. I
mean," said Mr. Hamlin gravely, correcting himself, "YOU would never
have forgiven him. But what did she say?"

The boy's face clouded. "She thanked me and said it was very
thoughtful--and kind--though it might have been only an accident"--he
stammered--"and then she said perhaps I was hanging round and coming
there a little too much lately, and that as Burroughs was very watchful,
I'd better quit for two or three days." The tears were rising to his
eyes, but by putting his two clenched fists into his pockets, he managed
to hold them down. Perhaps Mr. Hamlin's soft hand on his head assisted
him. Mr. Hamlin took from his pocket a notebook, and tearing out a leaf,
sat down again and began to write on his knee. After a pause, Leonidas
said,--

"Was you ever in love, Mr. Hamlin?"

"Never," said Mr. Hamlin, quietly continuing to write. "But, now you
speak of it, it's a long-felt want in my nature that I intend to supply
some day. But not until I've made my pile. And don't YOU either." He
continued writing, for it was this gentleman's peculiarity to talk
without apparently the slightest concern whether anybody else spoke,
whether he was listened to, or whether his remarks were at all relevant
to the case. Yet he was always listened to for that reason. When he had
finished writing, he folded up the paper, put it in an envelope, and
addressed it.

"Shall I take it to her?" said Leonidas eagerly.

"It's not for HER; it's for him--Mr. Burroughs," said Mr. Hamlin
quietly.

The boy drew back. "To get him out of the way," added Hamlin
explanatorily. "When he gets it, lightning wouldn't keep him here. Now,
how to send it," he said thoughtfully.

"You might leave it at the post-office," said Leonidas timidly. "He
always goes there to watch his wife's letters."

For the first time in their interview Mr. Hamlin distinctly laughed.

"Your head is