Against this point Sewell felt himself helpless. He could not pretend that the boy would not be ridiculous in the eyes of his friends, and all the more ridiculous because so wholly innocent. He could only say, “That is a thing you must bear,” and then it occurred to him to ask, “Do you feel that it is right to let your family meet the ridicule alone?” “I guess nobody will speak to mother about it, more than once,” said Lemuel, with a just pride in his mother's powers of retort. A woman who, unaided and alone, had worn the Bloomer costume for twenty years in the heart of a commentative community like Willoughby Pastures, was not likely to be without a cutting tongue for her defence. “But your sister,” urged Sewell; “your brother-in-law,” he feebly added. “I guess they will have to stand it,” replied Lemuel. The minister heaved a sigh of hopeless perplexity. “What do you propose to do, then? You can't remain here without means. Do you expect to sell your poetry?” he asked, goaded to the question by a conscience peculiarly sore on that point. It made Lemuel blush. “No, I don't expect to sell it, now. They took it out of my pocket on the Common.” “I am glad of that,” said the minister as simply, “and I feel bound to warn you solemnly, that there is absolutely _no_ hope for you in that direction.” Lemuel said nothing. The minister stood baffled again. After a bad moment he asked, “Have you anything particular in view?” “I don't know as I have.” “How long can you remain here?” “I don't know exactly.” Sewell turned and followed the manager into the refrigerator room, where he had remained patiently whistling throughout this interview. When he came back, Lemuel had carried one trayful of bowls upstairs, and returned for another load, which he was piling carefully up for safe transportation. “The manager tells me,” said Sewell, “that practically you can stay here as long as you like, if you work, but he doesn't think it desirable you should remain, nor do I. But I wish to find you here again, when I come back. I have something in view for you.” This seemed to be a question, and Lemuel said, “All right,” and went on piling up his bowls. He added, “I shouldn't want you to take a great deal of trouble.” “Oh, it's no trouble,” groaned the minister. “Then I may depend upon seeing you here any time during the day?” “I don't know as I'm going away,” Lemuel admitted.