was to loosen your shoe-laces!"

"Don't you see--I know you better than you do yourself. You don't see
how big your work is. Is it a small thing to live six years in a place
and have every one depending on you, praising you--loving you--and
being able to advise them and lead the young fellows anyway you
like--making men of them, instead of street loafers--and their mothers
so thankful they can hardly speak of it."

"You evidently don't know what we think of you, any of us--and here
I am--I don't know when it began with me--the first day I saw you--I
think, when I was twelve--I've been worshipping you and treasuring up
every word you ever said to me. I don't know whether it is love or
not, it's something very sweet. It has made me ambitious to look my
best, do my best and be my best. I want to make you proud of me--I
will make you proud of me--see if I don't--I want to be with you, to
help you, look after you--grow up with you--I don't know whether it is
love or not--it--is something! There is nothing too hard for me to do,
if it is for you--everything--any thing would be sweet to me--if you
were with me. Is that love?"

She was standing before him, holding his hand in both of hers, and her
eyes had the light in them, the tender, glowing light that seemed to
flame blue at the edges, like the coal fire he had watched the night
before.

Impulsively he drew her to him, and for a moment buried his face in
her warm, white neck, kissing the curling strands of her brown hair.

"O Pearl," he cried, drawing away from her, "O Pearl--you're a hard