"Nonsense!" replied Aunt Ella. "Uncle Jim was a fool; any man is a fool who thinks he can win the battle of life by making a sot of himself. Bring this girl to me, Quincy. She must be a genius, if she can write as you say she can. Let me care for her and love her and make life pleasant and beautiful for her until you get ready to do it yourself." "I will, some day, Aunt Ella. You are the best friend I have in the world, and when I have the right to bring Alice to you, I will lose no time in doing so. Thank you for your kind words about her. I shall never forget them, and she shall hear them some day. But I must go now." They both arose, "Promise that you will come and see me every time you are in Boston, Quincy; if you don't, I shall come down to Eastborough to see you." She gave him another kiss at parting. As he left the house he deliberated for a moment as to where he should go next. It was half-past four. He decided to go to Leopold's lodgings in Chestnut Street. He found him at home, but for a wonder he was not working. "This is an off day with me," he explained; "this is our haying season, and I've been working nights, days, and Sundays for a fortnight." "I came to express Miss Pettengill's obligations and thanks for your kind and very successful efforts in her behalf." "Oh! that's all right," said Leopold. "By the way, have you told her she ought to write a book?" "Not yet," said Quincy; "but I'm going to soon. She has just lost a dear friend; but I won't forget it." "Don't!" repeated Leopold. "She is a diamond that ought to be dug up, cut, and set in eighteen carat gold. Excuse my apparently brutal language, but you get my meaning." "Certainly," said Quincy; "and you are not working to-day." "No," replied Leopold; "loafing and enjoying it, too. I've a good mind to turn vagrant and loaf on, loaf ever." "Come down to Parker's and have dinner with me." "Can't do it," replied Leopold; "my stomach is loafing, too. 'Twouldn't be fair to make it work and do nothing myself. Just as much obliged. Some other day. Don't forget the book," he cried, as Quincy left the room. Quincy took his dinner at Parker's, caught the five minutes past six express, and reached Eastborough Centre at half-past seven. Abbott Smith drove him home to the Pettengill house. The next day was Friday. Everybody at Mason's Corner, with quite a number from Eastborough and Montrose, came to Mrs. Putnam's funeral. The little Square in front of the church, as well as the shed, was filled with teams. While waiting for the arrival of the body, quite a number of the male residents of Mason's Corner were gathered upon the steps of the church. Strout spied Abner Stiles and approached him. "Bob Wood has jest told me," said the Professor, "that he has decided not to leave his present place, so I've concluded on second thoughts to give yer that job at the grocery store." Abner's eyes twinkled.