sured her, with a loyal glance at the girl, "I--I had
a good breakfast, didn't I, dear?"

But his eyes brightened at sight of the half chicken and the omelet,
glowing in a parsley wreath, and he had broken one of the puffy
rolls and plunged into a great cup of coffee before he addressed
Caroline.

"You seem to be a valuable person to know," he observed,
"you and Matthew Arnold or John Greenleaf Whittier or
what-ever-his-name-is."

Caroline looked embarrassed and helped herself to jelly.

"You have helped my--we are very much obliged to you, I am sure,"
he turned to address Luella, who was passing from stove to table,
"aren't we, dearest?"

The girl sat with her hands in her lap, staring at her plate.

"Yes, of course," she agreed, "certainly."

"If you could come every day--they told me I could find some one to
do that--it would be a great accommodation," he went on, with a
worried look at the sad face opposite him, "and anything it might be
worth, I am sure, Mrs.----"

"Judd, Luella Judd," she supplied, briskly. "Now, dear, try to eat a
little, do! That omelet'll do you good. And that's a lovely piece o'
breast I cut you off. It was all right my bringin' it, for the old
gentleman never touches cold meat and the jelly's my own. There,
that's right. I thought you'd like it, once you began. There's no
need to tempt Car'line and your husband, is there? But that's all
right: young folks ought to eat--I never grudged mine a crumb, and
the Lord knows they eat me out of house and home."

The young man, indeed, ate voraciously, and under Luella's kindly
domineering the hostess herself cleared her plate. The hot coffee
brought the color to her cheeks, and she had even smiled at Henry D.
Thoreau. Caroline had never seen anyone prettier. She had a great
dimple in either cheek, and her gray eyes smiled with the sweetest
confidence into the black eyes opposite: any one could see that they
loved each other very much, even if they had "had words."

"Just a little more o' the huckleberry bread, dear?" Luella urged
her. "I've been sort o' plannin' out how I c'd manage to get here
every day, and I guess I can, if you'll be content to wait a little
for your breakfast. My old gentleman don't have anything but a cup
o' coffee in the morning, an' I c'd be over here by ha' past eight,
easy enough, Mr. Hartley, if that suited you--"

"Wortley, my name is Wortley," the young man interrupted, hastily.

Luella looked puzzled.

"