thought. Or perhaps it was that mysterious influence which a positive
mind in motion--like Miss Arnold's--wields over a vacillating
temperament like the dead-wagon driver's.

Whichever of these causes it was, could of course never be positively
known, but, like a flash of lightning, the fellow changed his
insolent, braggart manner to one of the most contemptible, cringing
cowardice.

"Don't, Missus, don't! Ef I've 'sulted yer, 'pon my dirty soul I'll
beg yer double-barrelled pardon. Please don't yer go to complainin' on
me. For ef I'd lose my place, my wife and young 'uns 'ud starve to
death in no time. I oughter knowed better then to sass you anyhow,
when I seed how good and purty ye wuz!"

"Please don't leave us! don't leave us, Miss Agnes, for you've been
our Good Angel. You have saved our lives!" piteously exclaimed
Mrs. Burton and her children in chorus at this moment, fearful that
their nurse was really going away, and dreading if she did, that they
would all be carried off either to the cemetery or some other dreadful
place.

"Now, please go back, and don't go a tellin' on me fur a sassin yer. I
oughter to be ashamed; and I am double-barrelled ashamed. An' ef
you'll jest say you'll furgiv' me, I'll go down on my knees. There
now, Miss Agony, ain't that 'nuff? Ef it ain't, why I'll do whatever
you say fur me to do."

The fellow pulled off his hat, and set himself in such a ludicrously
woebegone attitude, that Miss Arnold had great difficulty in