"Hildy--" he began; and then, giving it up, he said simply: "Well, I
swan! Do ye kerry all that round with ye all the time?"

Hilda laughed outright at this.

"Oh, no!" she said; "I am called Hilda generally."

"But you kin spell the hull of it?" asked the boy anxiously.

"Yes, certainly!" Bubble's eager look subsided into one of mingled awe
and admiration.

"Reckon ye must know a heap," he said, rather wistfully. "Wish't I did!"

Hilda looked at him for a moment without speaking. Her old self was
whispering to her. "Take care what you do!" it said. "This is a coarse,
common, dirty boy. He smells of the stable; his hair is full of hay; his
hands are beyond description. What have you in common with such a
creature? He has not even the sense to know that he is your inferior."
"I don't care!" said the new Hilda. "I know what mamma would do if she
were here, and I shall do it,--or try to do it, at least. Hold your
tongue, you supercilious minx!"

"Bubble," she said aloud, "would you like me to teach you a little,
while I am here? I think perhaps I could help you with your lessons."

The boy looked up with a sudden flash in his blue eyes, while his face
grew crimson with pleasure.

"Would I like it?" he cried eagerly. But the next moment the glow faded,