that my companion had a keen sense of humor. As we neared the house,
after a moment's hesitancy, I asked him to come and rest on the little
porch, where a couple of splint rockers and a palm-leaf fan invited one
to comfort and coolness. He accepted the invitation with alacrity,
though he chose to sit on the wooden steps, while I tilted lazily back
and forth, overcome by the noonday lull and heat.

He looked so boyish when he took off his hat, with the dark little curls
falling over his forehead, that I thought he could not be older than I.
The walk had perhaps been more than he could bear, for he was so pale
that I could not help saying, "Pardon me, Mr. Longworth, but you look
so ill. Will you let me give you a glass of wine?" I had brought a
little with me. He looked slightly annoyed, but he answered gayly,

"I suppose Mrs. Hopper has been telling you I am a confirmed invalid.
Indeed I am almost well now, and I need Wilson about as much as I need a
perambulator, but I knew if I did not bring him, my mother would give up
Bar Harbor, and insist on burying herself with me, either here or at
some other doleful spot, stagnation having been prescribed for me. Oh,
well, I don't mind the quiet," he continued, leaning his broad shoulders
against the pillar, and pulling at a bit of the St. John's wort, for he
had thrown it down in a straggling heap on the floor of the porch. "I'm
at work on--on a book," he said with a boyish blush.

"Yes," I replied, smiling. "Mrs. Hopper told me that there was 'an
orther,' in Wauchittic."

"And that was what Mrs. Bangs told me the other day!" he declared
audaciously. And then we both laughed with the foolish gaiety of youth,
that rids itself thus of embarrassment.