"Wouldn't you be proud of your good looks, if you had any?" was the sharp rejoinder. "Um," coughed he, "I daresay I might." "I should be always staring at myself in the glass if I had her complexion, her golden hair, her lovely blue eyes. I should be proud to think that my pretty face had made my happiness by bringing the thoughts of such a son as yours to me." "Ah! I didn't see it in that light," said he, tugging at his stock again, "and I--I daresay everything will turn out for the best. We will not dwell upon this any more, but let things take their course, and not spoil them by interference, or by talking about them, Mattie." "Don't fear me," said Mattie, rising. "I don't think it is our place," he added, associating himself with Mattie, to render his hints less personal, "to be curious about it, and seek to pry into what is going on in the hearts of these young people. Do you think now, Mattie, that she's inclined to be fond of--of my Sid?" "I don't say she'd own it just now--but I think she is. Why shouldn't she be?" "Ah!--why, indeed. There's not a boy like him in the whole parish." "No, sir." "And Harriet Wesden will be a lucky girl." "Ah! that she will!" "And--and now good night, Mattie, and the less we repeat of this gossip the better." "Certainly--things had better take their course without _our_ interference." "Yes," was the dry answer. Mattie seized her tray, and prepared to depart. At the door, with her burden _en avance_ she paused, went back to the table, replaced her tray, and returned to Mr. Hinchford's side. "Something happened to-night! The dear girl has been disturbed--I hope Mr. Sidney has not been in a hurry, and----" "Hush! I don't think he's asleep. Good night--good night." "When _she_ was a year younger, it was hard work to keep back what was in her heart from me; but she's growing older in her ways, and better able to understand that I'm only a poor servant, after all. I don't complain," said Mattie, "she's always kind and good to me, but she's my mistress's daughter, rather than the sister--or something like the sister--that used to be. And I do so like to know everything, sir!" "So it seems," remarked Mr. Hinchford. "Everything that concerns her, I mean--because I might be of help when she least expected it. And so Mr. Sidney has told her all about it to-night?" "I never said so," cried the embarrassed old gentleman. "Well, I only guess at it," answered Mattie; "I shall soon come to the rights of it, if I keep a good look out." She caught up her tray again and marched to the door to ponder anew. Mr. Hinchford writhed on his chair--would this loquacious diminutive help never go down-stairs and leave him in peace? She asked no more questions, however. "And to think that what I fancied would happen is all coming round like a story-book, just as I hoped it would be for her sake--for his sake--years and years ago! How nicely things come round, sir, don't they?" "Don't they!" he re-echoed.