Whether this is the correct version of the ballad or not, I do not know; it was Leah's version. Many and many a time had I heard it; and I was hearing it again this evening, when there came a quiet ring at the door bell. My door was pushed to but not closed, and Leah came bustling down. Barbara Allen was going on still, but in a more subdued voice. "Do Mr. Strange live here?" was asked, when the door was opened. "Yes, he does," responded Leah. "He is out." "Oh, I don't want him, ma'am. I only wanted to know if he lived here. What sort of a man is he?" "What sort of a man?" repeated Leah. "A very nice man." "Yes; but in looks, I mean." "Well, he is very good-looking. Blue eyes, and dark hair, and straight features. Why do you want to know?" "Ay, that's him. But I don't know about the colour of his eyes; I thought they was dark. Blue in one light and brown in another, maybe. A tallish, thinnish man." "He's pretty tall; not what can be called a maypole. A little taller than Mr. Brightman was." "Brightman and Strange, that's it? T'other's an old gent, I suppose?" was the next remark; while I sat, amused at the colloquy. "He was not old. He is just dead. Have you any message?" "No, I don't want to leave a message; that's not my business. He told me he lived here, and I came to make sure of it. A pleasant, sociable man, ain't he; no pride about him, though he is well off and goes cruising about in his own yacht." "No pride at all with those he knows, whether it's friends or servants," returned Leah, forgetting her own pride, or at any rate her discretion, in singing my praises. "Never was anybody pleasanter than he. But as to a yacht----" "Needn't say any more, ma'am; it's the same man. Takes a short pipe and a social dram occasionally, and makes no bones over it." "What?" retorted Leah indignantly. "Mr. Strange doesn't take drams or smoke short pipes. If he just lights a cigar at night, when business is over, it's as much as he does. He's a gentleman." "Ah," returned the visitor, his tones expressing a patronizing sort of contempt for Leah's belief in Mr. Strange: "gents that is gents indoors be not always gents out. Though I don't see why a man need be reproached with not being a gent because he smokes a honest clay pipe, and takes a drop short; and Mr. Strange does both, I can tell ye." "Then I know he does not," repeated Leah. "And if you knew Mr. Strange, you wouldn't say it." "If I knew Mr. Strange! Perhaps I know him as well as you do, ma'am. He don't come courting our Betsy without my knowing of him." "What do you say he does?" demanded Leah, suppressing her wrath. "Why, I say he comes after our Betsy; leastways, I'm a'most sure of it. And that's why I wanted to know whether this was his house or not, for I'm not a-going to have her trifled with. She's my only daughter, and as good as he is. And now that I've got my information I'll say good-night, ma'am." Leah shut the door, and I opened mine. "Who was that, Leah?"