"Not just yet," said Mr. Hamlin, laying his hand on the boy's head
after having restored his own hat. "You see, I thought of giving her a
surprise. A big surprise!" he added slowly. After a pause, he went on:
"Did you tell her what you had seen?"

"Of course I did," said Leonidas reproachfully. "Did you think I was
going to let her get bit? It might have killed her."

"And it might not have been an unmixed pleasure for William Henry. I
mean," said Mr. Hamlin gravely, correcting himself, "YOU would never
have forgiven him. But what did she say?"

The boy's face clouded. "She thanked me and said it was very
thoughtful--and kind--though it might have been only an accident"--he
stammered--"and then she said perhaps I was hanging round and coming
there a little too much lately, and that as Burroughs was very watchful,
I'd better quit for two or three days." The tears were rising to his
eyes, but by putting his two clenched fists into his pockets, he managed
to hold them down. Perhaps Mr. Hamlin's soft hand on his head assisted
him. Mr. Hamlin took from his pocket a notebook, and tearing out a leaf,
sat down again and began to write on his knee. After a pause, Leonidas
said,--

"Was you ever in love, Mr. Hamlin?"

"Never," said Mr. Hamlin, quietly continuing to write. "But, now you
speak of it, it's a long-felt want in my nature that I intend to supply
some day. But not until I've made my pile. And don't YOU either." He
continued writing, for it was this gentleman's peculiarity to talk