“Ugh,” exclaimed Anna, “what a green, boyish looking thing! I reckon nobody’s going to be afraid of him.” “I say he’s real handsome,” said Carrie, who being thirteen years of age, had already, in her own mind, practiced many a little coquetry upon the stranger. “I like him,” was ’Lena’s brief remark. Mr. Everett was a pale, intellectual looking man, scarcely twenty years of age, and appearing still younger so that Anna was not wholly wrong when she called him boyish. Still there was in his large black eye a firmness and decision which bespoke the man strong within him, and which put to flight all of Anna’s preconceived notions of rebellion. With the utmost composure he returned Mrs. Livingstone’s greeting, and the proud lady half bit her lip with vexation as she saw how little he seemed awed by her presence. Malcolm Everett was not one to acknowledge superiority where there was none, and though ever polite toward Mrs. Livingstone, there was something in his manner which forbade her treating him as aught save an equal. He was not to be trampled down, and for once in her life Mrs. Livingstone had found a person who would neither cringe to her nor flatter. The children were not presented to him until dinner time, when, with the air of a young desperado, John Jr. marched into the dining-room, eying, his teacher askance, calculating his strength, and returning his greeting with a simple nod. Mr. Everett scanned him from head to foot, and then turned to Carrie half smiling at the great dignity which she assumed. With ’Lena and Anna he seemed better pleased, holding their hands and smiling down upon them through rows of teeth which Anna pronounced the whitest she had ever seen. Mr. Livingstone was not at home, and when his mother appeared, Mrs. Livingstone did not think proper to introduce her. But if by this omission she thought to keep the old lady silent, she was mistaken, for the moment Mrs. Nichols was seated, she commenced with, “Your name is Everett, I b’lieve?” “Yes, ma’am,” said he, bowing very gracefully toward her. “Any kin to the governor that was?” “No, ma’am, none whatever,” and the white teeth became slightly visible for a moment, but soon disappeared. “You are from Rockford, ’Lena tells me?” “Yes, ma’am. Have you friends there?” “Yes—or that is, Nancy Scovandyke’s sister, Betsy Scovandyke that used to be, lives there. May be you know her. Her name is Bacon—Betsy Bacon. She’s a widder and keeps boarders.” “Ah,” said he, the teeth this time becoming wholly visible, “I’ve heard of Mrs. Bacon, but have not the honor of her acquaintance. You are from the east, I perceive.” “Law, now! how did you know that!” asked Mrs. Nichols, while Mr. Everett answered, “I _guessed_ at it,” with a peculiar emphasis on the word guessed, which led ’Lena to think he had used it purposely and not from habit.