Had it proved to be a petition, Miss Melissa would have been terribly disappointed. "It certainly is very respectful," thought Melissa, after she had read it, "but I cannot reply to it; that would never do. There certainly is nothing I can take offence at. It must be the tinker himself, I am sure of that: but still he does not say so. Well, I don't know, but I feel very anxious as to what this will come to. O, it can come to nothing, for I cannot love a man I have never seen, and I would not admit a stranger to an interview; that's quite decided. I must show the letter to Araminta. Shall I? I don't know, she's so particular, so steady, and would be talking of propriety and prudence; it would vex her so, and put her quite in a fever, she would be so unhappy; no, it would be cruel to say anything to her, she would fret so about it; I won't tell her, until I think it absolutely necessary. It is a very gentleman-like hand, and elegant language too; but still I'm not going to carry on a secret correspondence with a tinker. It must be the tinker. What an odd thing altogether! What can his name be? An old family quarrel, too. Why, it's a Romeo and Juliet affair, only Romeo's a tinker. Well, one mask is as good as another. He acknowledges himself poor, I like that of him, there's something so honest in it. Well, after all, it will be a little amusement to a poor girl like me, shut up from year's end to year's end, with opodeldocs always in my nose; so I will see what the end of it may be," thought Melissa, rising from her seat to go into the house, and putting the letter into her pocket. Joey went back to Spikeman and reported progress. "That's all I wish, Joey," said Spikeman; "now you must not go there to-morrow; we must let it work a little; if she is at all interested in the letter, she will be impatient to know more." Spikeman was right. Melissa looked up and down the road very often during the next day, and was rather silent during the evening. The second day after, Joey, having received his instructions, set off, with his knife-grinder's wheel, for the mansion-house. When he went round the copse where the bench was, he found Miss Mathews there. "I beg your pardon, miss, but do you think there is any work at the house?" "Come here, sir," said Melissa, assuming a very dignified air. "Yes, miss," said Joey, walking slowly to her. "Now, tell me the truth, and I will reward you with half-a-crown." "Yes, miss." "Did you not put this letter in my book the day before yesterday?" "Letter, miss! what letter?" "Don't you deny it, for you know you did; and if you don't tell me the truth, my father is a magistrate, and I'll have you punished." "I was told not to tell," replied Joey, pretending to be frightened. "But you must tell; yes, and tell me immediately." "I hope you are not angry, miss." "No, not if you tell the truth." "I don't exactly know, miss, but a gentleman--" "What gentleman?"