"The young whelp," he said, apostrophizing the overdressed youth with the cigarette. Then to Patience: "Dodging him, eh? Now don't blush, girl. I don't blame him for looking at you. You're worth looking at. But you show mighty good sense in keeping away from him." "Why, Mr. Price, I--" Patience stammered. "O, that's all right, dodge him, keep him guessing. One of those freshies from the city, eh? Well, there's mighty little good in 'em. Give your ma my best regards. Tell her she's got a fine daughter. Good night." Patience left the store by the rear door and started briskly for her home. She had gone but a block when she heard a wagon rumbling behind her and a voice called out: "'Lo, there, Patience, late, ain't you?" It was Harvey Spencer, ambitious "all round" clerk, hostler, collector for Millville's leading grocer. He drove a roan colt which went rather skittishly. There was an older man in the wagon with him. Harvey drew up the colt beside Patience with a vociferous "Whoa." "Yes," replied Patience, "I'm a little late. Lots of business these days, Harvey?" "You bet," he retorted, "Millville is flourishing. We'll soon have a real city here. Oh, Miss Welcome, let me make you acquainted with my friend, Mr. Michael Grogan of Chicago." Patience accepted the introduction with flushed reserve. "I'm right glad to know you," stated Mr. Grogan, removing his hat gallantly and wiping a perspiring brow with his handkerchief. "But let me tell you I don't think much of your friend, Harvey Spencer. Sure, I've been riding with him for two hours and you're the first pleasant object he's shown me. And such a ride! It's a certainty that this young fellow knows every bump and thank-ye-ma'am in the village and he's taken me full speed over all of them. I feel like I'd been churned. But I'll forgive him all that now--now that he's shown me you." There was a sincerity in Mr. Grogan's raillery that swept away Patience's reserve. Besides, he was over fifty. "Sure," she said, slyly imitating Mr. Grogan's brogue, "you've been kissing the blarney stone, Mr. Grogan." "Will ye listen to that now?" said Grogan enthusiastically, as he started to clamber off the wagon. "Sit still, Mr. Grogan," said Harvey, laughing. "But didn't you hear her, man alive? Sure, she's Irish--" "No, I'm not," put in Patience, "but I've heard of the blarney stone." "Look at that, now," said Grogan, returning to his seat with an air of keen disappointment. "And I was just longin' to see someone from the Ould Sod. I thought--" "How do you like riding with Harvey?" inquired Patience, changing the subject. "Well," said Grogan plaintively, "if I were twenty years younger maybe it would be good exercise, but with my years, Miss, 'tis just plain exhausting." Here Harvey started the roan colt off again. "See you later," he called back to Patience, "I'm stopping at your house." "So that's Tom Welcome's daughter, is it?" said Grogan as they got out of hearing.