We have before said that morning was not the time for this man to talk, and now he felt inclined, as usual, to pass this early salutation without notice; but it had been a long time since he had been accosted in that manner. It was no uncommon thing for people to address him in this way: "Good-morning, Pete! Feel sober after your last night's high, eh?" But a respectful "Good-morning, Mr. Graffam," now met his ear. "Can it be," thought the fallen man, "that I am still _Mr._, or are they mocking me?" He looked up, but saw neither jest nor scorn upon the fair face looking over the garden-wall. "Good-morning, sir," repeated Emma; "it is a fine morning." Poor Graffam looked with his dull swollen eyes upon the bright-blue sky, and then upon the wood-crowned hill, and the shaded dell, where the waters rippled and murmured, and the birds sang cheerily, and his heart caught some apprehension of beauty, for he answered slowly, "So it is, miss,--a very fine morning." "And pray, how is your dear little babe, sir?" asked Emma, in a voice of tender concern. This question seemed fully to rouse him. There was a glance both of surprise and intelligence in his eye, as he replied, "The child is very sick;" and then repeated, as though it were a fact new to himself, "Yes, that poor child is very sick indeed." "I was at your house yesterday," continued Emma, "and promised Mrs. Graffam that I would bring a good old lady living with us to see her; but I am not well enough to go to-day." "Sorry if you are sick," murmured Graffam. "Thank you," said Emma. "I was going to ask if you would have the kindness just to call at the gate tonight, and take a small package for Mrs. Graffam?" "I will," said he, with a tone and manner something like self-respect and respect for his wife,--"I will, miss, with pleasure;" and he pulled his old hat from his head, and bowed low, while Emma bade him good-by. "Go out upon the hills, my love," called Mrs. Lindsay from her window to Emma; "it will do you no good to be tying-up flowers, and talking with ragged old men by the roadside. Put on your bonnet, and walk briskly over the bridge, and let me see you from my window upon the top of yonder hill."