"Miss--" began the boy. Then, realizing that in New York this form of address is hardly complete, he hastened to add: "Miss Lescott, I've been here over nine months now, and I'm just beginning to realize what a rube I am. I haven't no--" Again, he broke off, and laughed at himself. "I mean, I haven't any idea of proper manners, and so I'm, as we would say down home, 'plumb skeered' of ladies." As he accused himself, Samson was looking at her with unblinking directness; and she met his glance with eyes that twinkled. "Mr. South," she said, "I know all about manners, and you know all about a hundred real things that I want to know. Suppose we begin teaching each other?" Samson's face lighted with the revolutionizing effect that a smile can bring only to features customarily solemn. "Miss Lescott," he said, "let's call that a trade--but you're gettin' all the worst of it. To start with, you might give me a lesson right now in how a feller ought to act, when he's talkin' to a lady--how I ought to act with you!" Her laugh made the situation as easy as an old shoe. Ten minutes later, Lescott entered. "Well," he said, with a smile, "shall I Introduce you people, or have you already done it for yourselves?" "Oh," Adrienne assured him, "Mr. South and I are old friends." As she left the room, she turned and added: "The second lesson had better be at my house. If I telephone you some day when we can have the school-room to ourselves, will you come up?" Samson grinned, and forgot to be bashful as he replied: "I'll come a-kitin'!" CHAPTER XVIII