I awaited Miss Mayton's reappearance to offer an apology for Toddie, and
to make my adieus. The other ladies departed in twos and threes, and
left us without witnesses.

Suddenly she appeared, and, whatever was the cause, she looked queenly.
She dropped into a chair, and the boys retired to the end of the piazza
to make experiments on a large Newfoundland dog, while I, the happiest
man alive, talked to the glorious woman before me, and enjoyed her
radiant beauty. The twilight came and deepened, and our voices
unconsciously dropped to lower tones, and her voice seemed purest music.

Suddenly a small shadow came between, and the voice of Budge remarked,
"Uncle Harry 'spects you, Miss Mayton."

"Suspects me! Of what, pray?" exclaimed the lady, patting my nephew's
cheek.

"Budge," said I--I felt my voice rising nearly to a scream--"Budge, I
must beg you to respect the sanctity of confidential communications."

"What is it, Budge?" persisted Miss Mayton. "You know the old adage, Mr.
Burton, 'Children and fools speak the truth.' Of what does he suspect
me, Budge?"

"'Tain't _sus_pect at all," said Budge; "it's espect."

"Expect?" echoed Miss Mayton.

"Respect is what the boy is trying to say, Miss Mayton," I interrupted.
"Budge has a terrifying faculty for asking questions, and the result of