“Elsie Preston!” he ejaculated, “are you losin' your mem'ry or what? Didn't you pitch into me hot-foot for lettin' him be alone with you? Didn't you give me 'hark from the tomb' for gittin' up and goin' away? Didn't you say his calls was perfect torture to you, and that you had to be decent to him jest out of common politeness? Now, didn't you?” “Oh, that was it! No, of course I didn't say any such thing.” “You DIDN'T! Why, I heard you! Land of love! my ears smarted for a week afterward. I ain't had sech a goin' over sence mother used to git at me for goin' in swimmin' on Sunday. And now you say you didn't say it.” “I didn't. You misunderstood me. I did object to your leaving the room every time he called, and making me appear so ridiculous; and I did say that his visits might be a torture for all that you knew to the contrary, but I certainly didn't say that they WERE.” “SUFFERIN'! And you ain't glad he stopped comin'?” The air of complete indifference assumed by the young lady was a triumph. “Why, of course,” she said, “Mr. Hazeltine is a free agent, and I don't know of any reason why he should be compelled to go where he doesn't wish to go. I enjoyed his society, and I'm sure Captain Eri and Mrs. Snow enjoyed it, too; but it is quite evident that he did not enjoy ours, so I don't see that there need be any more said on the subject.” Captain Jerry was completely crushed. If the gale described by the redoubtable grandsire of Jonadab Wixon had struck him, he could not have been more upset. “My! my! my!” he murmured. “And after my beggin' his pardon and all!” “Begging his pardon? For what?” “Why, for leavin' you two alone. Of course, after you pitched into me so I see how foolish I'd been actin', and I--honest, I didn't sleep scursely a bit that night thinkin' 'bout it. Thinks I, 'If Elsie feels that way, why, there ain't no doubt that Mr. Hazeltine feels the same.' There wa'n't but one thing to be done. When a man makes a mistake, if he is any kind of a man, he owns up, and does his best to straighten things out. 'Twa'n't easy to do, but duty's duty, and the next time I see Mr. Hazeltine I told him the whole thing, and--” “You DID!” “Sartin I did.” “What did you tell him?” They had stopped on the sidewalk nearly opposite the post-office. Each was too much engrossed in the conversation to pay any heed to anything else. If the few passersby thought it strange that the schoolmistress should care to loiter out of doors on that cold and disagreeable morning, they said nothing about it. One young man in particular, who, standing just inside the post-office door, was buttoning his overcoat and putting on his gloves, looked earnestly at the pair, but he, too, said nothing.