"I daresay the fellow punished his wife and the donkey all the more, when they were out of sight," said the Colonel; "but I confess I should have done it myself. Very well! I will put down in my books--my little Susan in favour of young Musgrave versus Sergeant Kennedy against. And so you only saw him that one time? Do you know anybody at all, you poor child?--have you ever had a companion in your life?" "Not a companion," said Susan; "but"--and she looked up in her uncle's face--"_you_ won't be angry, I know, uncle. Peggy goes to the meeting, and sometimes in the morning, when papa does not go out, I go with _her_. It is dreary to go to church all alone." "So it is," said the sympathetic uncle; "and what then?" "Then," said Susan, blushing a little more, and looking up shyly in his face--"I am sure I do not know how we got acquainted. We used to look at each other, and then we nodded, and then, at last, one day we spoke; and now, sometimes, we meet when we are out walking, uncle--and once I have been in their house--only once. I did not mean it--I was there before I knew what I was about." "But you have not told me yet who this mysterious person is," said the Colonel, a little disappointed and troubled, if the truth must be told, at the thought of some young and no doubt perfectly unsuitable lover who met his little girl in clandestine walks, and whose house even, the inexperience of Susan had been persuaded into visiting. He said the words rather coldly, in spite of himself--he was mortified to find the virginal quiet of her mind already thus disturbed. "Uncle, are you displeased?" said Susan, with a little fright and surprise. "Oh, I never thought _you_ would be angry; for even Peggy said that to be friends with Letty would be for my good. She is the minister's daughter at the meeting, and the only child; and she has learned so much, and knows a hundred things that I know nothing of; and, uncle, sometimes I want somebody to speak to--oh, so much!" "My dear child, forgive me! I wish you knew a dozen Letties," cried the repentant Colonel; "that you should have to blush over an innocent friendship, my poor dear little girl; but your confusion, Susan, made me think it something very different. Why should you be ashamed of knowing Letty? I am very glad to hear it, for my part." Susan did not answer just immediately. She said to herself, with a little quickening of her breath:-- "I wonder what was the something very different that Uncle Edward thought of," and a little inclination to laughter seized the little girl. Who could tell why? She did not know herself, but felt it all the same. "Does Horace spend much of his time with you, Susan?" said Uncle Edward; "does he tell you what he is thinking about? Do you know that your brother is tired of an idle life, and wants to be employed, and to make his own way in the world?"