Three weeks had passed away since that memorable ride. Mr. Liston after paying to the proper recipients the money due for Mosside, had returned to Boston, leaving the neighborhood to gossip of Alice’s generosity, and to wonder how much she was worth. It was a secret yet that Lulu and Muggins were hers, but the story of Rocket was known, and numerous were the surmises as to what would be the result of her familiar intercourse with Hugh. Already was the effect of her presence visible in his gentleness of manner, his care to observe all the little points of etiquette never practiced by him before, and his attention to his own personal appearance. His trousers were no longer worn inside his boots, or his soft hat jammed into every conceivable shape, while Ellen Tiffton, who came often to Spring Bank, and was supposed to be good authority, pronounced him almost as stylish looking as any man in Woodford. It is strange how much dress and a little care as to its adjustment can do for one. It certainly did wonders for Hugh, who knew how much he was improved, and to whose influence he owed it, just as he knew of the mighty love he bore this gentle girl, working so great a good at Spring Bank. To Hugh, Alice was every thing, and sometimes the thought crossed his mind that possibly he might win her for himself, but it was repudiated as soon as formed, for it could not be, he said, that one like Alice Johnson should ever care for him; and so, between hope and a kind of blissful despair, Hugh lived on until the evening of the day when Adah left Spring Bank for Terrace Hill. She had intended going immediately after the sale at Mosside, but Willie had been ailing ever since, and that had detained her. But now she was really gone; Hugh had accompanied her to Frankfort, seeing her safely off, and spending the entire day in town, so that it was rather late when he returned to Spring Bank. Being unusually fatigued Mrs. Worthington had already retired and as Alice was not in sight, Hugh sat down alone by the parlor fire.