he thought it was rather his duty and
privilege,--especially, he added, with a slight smile, as he was quite
sure that it was not very disagreeable to us. As for the gossips, he
didn't think they would make much out of it, with such an excellent
duenna as Cousin Mary,--and, indeed, he heard the other day that he was
paying attention to her.

I thought it all over by myself, when he had gone, and came to the
conclusion that it was not necessary for me to resign so great a
pleasure as his society had become, merely for the fear of what a few
curious people might say. Even Mary, cautious as she was, protested
against banishing him for such a reason; and, after a little talking
over of the matter among ourselves, we decided to let Mr. Ames come as
often as he chose, for the remaining month of his stay.

That month went rapidly enough, for I was well enough to ride and walk
out, and half the time had Mr. Ames to accompany me. I got to value him
very much, as I knew him better, and as he grew acquainted with my
peculiarities; and we were the best friends in the world, without a
thought of being more. No one would have laughed at that more than we,
there was such an evident unsuitableness in the idea. At length the time
came for him to leave Huntsville; his house was closed, except one room
where he still preferred to remain, and his friend was already gone. He
came to take tea with us for the last time, and made himself as
agreeable as ever, although it evidently required some effort to do so.
Soft-hearted Cousin Mary broke down and went off crying when he bade her
good-bye, after tea; but I was not of such stuff, and laughingly rallied
him on the impression he had made.

"Get your bonnet, and walk over to the stile with me, Miss Rachel," he
said. "It isn't sunset quite yet, and the afternoon is warm. Come! it's
the last walk we shall take together."

I followed him out, and we went almost silently across the fields to the
hill that overlooked the strip of meadow between our houses. There was
the stile over which I had looked to see him spring, many a time.

"Sit down a moment, until the sun is quite down," he said, making room
for me beside him on the topmost step. "See how splendid that sky is! a
pavilion for the gods!"

"I should think they were airing all their finery," I answered. "It
looks more like a counter spread with bright goods than anything else I
can think of."

"That's a decidedly vulgar comparison, an