corner out of sight. Then the spirit that possessed him (it was not he
himself, sure, that did so impudent a thing!) made him get up and carry
the candle to a different place, under the pretence of giving her more
light at her sewing, but in reality to be able to see her better. She
could not stand this much longer, but jumped up and said she must put her
little niece to bed; and surely there never was, before or since, so
troublesome a child of two years old, for though Will stayed an hour and
a half longer, she never came down again. He won the father's heart,
though, by his capacity as a listener; for some people are not at all
particular, and, so that they themselves may talk on undisturbed, are not
so unreasonable as to expect attention to what they say.

Will did gather this much, however, from the old man's talk. He had once
been quite in a genteel line of business, but had failed for more money
than any greengrocer he had heard of; at least, any who did not mix up
fish and game with green-grocery proper. This grand failure seemed to
have been the event of his life, and one on which he dwelt with a strange
kind of pride. It appeared as if at present he rested from his past
exertions (in the bankrupt line), and depended on his daughter, who kept
a small school for very young children. But all these particulars Will
only remembered and understood when he had left the house; at the time he
heard them, he was thinking of Susan. After he had made good his footing
at Mr. Palmer's, he was not long, you may be sure, without finding some
reason for returning again and again. He listened to her father, he
talked to the little niece, but he looked at Susan, both while he
listened and while he talked. Her father kept on insisting upon his
former gentility, the details of which would have appeared very
questionable to Will's mind, if the sweet, delicate, modest Susan had not
thrown an inexplicable air of refinement over all she came near. She
never spoke much; she was generally diligently at work; but when she