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“Mr. Leonard? Are you the new store-boy that he has told me of?” she asked, as she opened the letter.

“Been a-talkin’ about me, has he?” asked Will. “Hope he ain’t gone back on me. Bet he can’t find jist sich another in these diggin’s.”

“He said that you were a good intentioned boy, and that he might make something of you, if he could only cure you of your impudence.”

“Well, that’s clever in him. Mebbe he don’t know the job he’s takin’ in. Mought jist as well try to cure a grapevine from twisting.”

“Come with me to the house,” said Miss Arlington, on reading the letter. “I am to send a package back by you.”

“Lucky it ain’t a cook-stove, or something else nice and handy to carry,” said Will, as he walked on beside his new acquaintance. “Live with Mr. Leonard?”

“I do.”

“How old mought you be?” asked Will, earnestly.

“That is no question to ask a lady,” she replied, with a smile.

“Oh, we’re not playin’ gentleman and lady; we’re playin’ boy and gal. You’re not come out yet, or not engaged, or nothin’ of that nonsense, are you?”