“That, too, has been thought of,” said the girl, smiling; “but I have little choice in the matter, and, happily, as little preference for one as the other of these occupations. And now I must take my leave, for I promised to be back by two o'clock.” “Well, there's Joe will see you home with pleasure, and I 'm sure you have plenty to say to each other about long ago; not but I hope you 'll agree better than you did then. You were the torment of my life, the way you used to fight.” “I couldn't think of trespassing on Mr. Joseph's time; I should be quite ashamed of imposing such trouble on him. So good-bye, godmamma; good-bye, Mr. Joseph,” said she, hurriedly throwing her shawl around her. “If you will allow me to accompany you,” said Joseph, scarcely knowing whether she rejected or accepted his escort. “To be sure she will, and you have both more sense than to fall out now; and mind, Joseph, you 're to be here at four, for I asked Mrs. Cronan to dinner.” “Oh, that reminds me of something,” said Joe, hurriedly; and he leaned over his mother's chair, and whispered to her, “Mr. Martin has invited me to dine with him to-day; here is his note, which came to me in rather a strange fashion.” “To dine at the Nest! May I never! But I scarcely can believe my eyes,” said Mrs. Nelligan, in ecstasy. “And the honor, and the pleasure, too; well, well, you 're the lucky boy.” “What shall I do, mother; is n't there something between my father and him?” “What will you do but go; what else would you do, I 'd like to know? What will they say at the Post when they hear it?” “But I want you to hear how this occurred.” “Well, well; I don't care,--go you must, Joe. But there 's poor Catty walking away all alone; just overtake her, and say that a sudden invitation from the Martins--mention it as if you were up there every day--” But young Nelligan did not wait for the conclusion of this artful counsel, but hurrying after Catty Henderson, overtook her as she had gained the beach. “I have no need of an escort, Mr. Joseph,” said she, good-humoredly. “I know every turn of the way here.” “But you'll not refuse my companionship?” said he. “We have scarcely spoken to each other yet.” And as he spoke he drew his arm within her own, and they walked along in silence. “My mother thinks we did nothing but quarrel long ago,” said he, after a pause; “but if my memory serves me truly, it was upon this very pathway we once swore to each other vows of a very different kind. Do you recollect anything of that, Miss Henderson?” “I do, Mr. Joseph,” said she, with a sly half-glance as she uttered the last word. “Then why 'Mr. Joseph'?” said he, half reproachfully. “Why 'Miss Henderson'?” said she, with a malicious smile at the other's confusion; for somehow Joseph's manner was far less easy than her own.