Quincy said, "Accept my most sincere congratulations, Mr. Pettengill. I have known Miss Mason but a short time, but any man ought to be proud of her and happy in her love."

"Thank you, Mr. Sawyer," said 'Zekiel; "I agree with you in both the particulars you've mentioned, but both of us have what we consider good reasons for not having our engagement known in the village just at present, and to keep it a secret we need the a.s.sistance of a mutual friend."

"If I might aspire to that honor," said Quincy, "my time and services are at your disposal."

"That's what I told Huldy," said 'Zekiel, "but she was afraid that you would be vexed at what the gossips said about you and her; she's mad as a hornet herself, and she wants to teach them a lesson."

"Personally," said Quincy, "I don't care what the gossips say, but I was both sorry and indignant that they should have referred to Miss Mason in the way they did."

"Well," said 'Zekiel, "we have hatched up a sort of a plot, and if you will help us, all three of us will have some fun out of it."

"Well," inquired Quincy, "what's my share in the fun?"

"It's this," said 'Zekiel, "you know you used to take Huldy out to ride with you. To help out our plan, would you be willing to do it again?"

"Certainly," replied Quincy. "Miss Mason has been confined to her room so long I think she ought to have some fresh air."

"That's true," remarked 'Zekiel; "she's lost considerable flesh staying in so long; but if I took her out to ride they would jump at conclusions right off and say Huldy and 'Zekiel have made up, and they will guess we are going to make a match of it. Then, again," 'Zekiel continued, "Huldy says she's bound to have it out with the one that started the stories. There's no use mincing matters between us, because you know as well as I do who is at the bottom of all this t.i.ttle-tattle. Since I refused to join hands with him to try and drive you out of town, he has talked about me almost as bad as he has about you. 'So,' says Huldy to me, 'you know he is the only teacher of music in Eastborough. I want to take music lessons very much, and so I have got to have him for teacher.' Then she said, ''Zekiel, you leave the rest of it to me, and we will all have some fun before we get through.' I expect she is going to flirt with him, for it comes as nat'ral to her as it does to most women."

Quincy did not think it polite to a.s.sent to this last remark and changed the subject by remarking, "This is a beautiful day. I am going to drive the nurse over to Eastborough; perhaps Miss Mason would like to accompany us. That is, if you can trust her with me."

"Oh, that's all right," said 'Zekiel; "Huldy had to pay pretty dearly for getting mad at the wrong time. Besides, I don't think she will want to drive horse again for a while."

Mandy rapped on the parlor door and called out that the team was ready.

Quincy a.s.sured 'Zekiel that he understood his part and would play it to the best of his ability.

When he arrived at Deacon Mason's house he found the latter just coming out of the front gate. As Quincy leaped from the team the Deacon came forward and shook hands with him. "You are just the man I want to see,"

he remarked. "I've paid our doctor, but I want to know what the bill is for the Boston doctor and the nurse."

"I don't know yet," said Quincy, "but there will be nothing for you to pay. It is my duty to settle that bill myself."

"No," said the Deacon firmly. "She is my daughter, and it is my place as her father to pay such bills, until she has a husband to pay them for her."

Quincy said, "Deacon Mason, when I took your daughter out to ride it was my duty to return her to her home without injury. I did not do so, and I trust that you will allow me to atone for my neglect. Remember, sir, you have lost her services for several weeks, and the board of the nurse has been an expense to you."

"I prefer," rejoined the Deacon, "that the bill should be sent to me."

"Well," said Quincy, to close the discussion, "I will ask him to send you one;" mentally resolving, when it was sent, it would be a receipted one.

Quincy received a hearty welcome from Mrs. Mason, who said the nurse had her things packed and was all ready to go. He then told Mrs. Mason that he had a message for Miss Mason from Mr. 'Zekiel Pettengill, and Mrs.

Mason said she would send Huldy to the parlor at once. Huldy greeted Quincy with a happy face and without any show of confusion.

"I had a long talk with Mr. Pettengill," said Quincy, "and he has induced me to become a conspirator. The first act in our comedy is to ask you if you will ride over to Eastborough Centre this morning with the nurse and myself, and get a little fresh air?"

"I should be delighted," said Huldy, "if you can wait long enough for me to dress."

"That's what I came early for," remarked Quincy. "How long will it take you?"

"Fifteen minutes," said Huldy.

"It is now half-past seven," remarked Quincy, looking at his watch. "You mean you will be ready by quarter of nine?"

"No," said Huldy, with a flash of her eyes, "I am no city lady. I am a plain, country girl, and I mean just one-quarter of an hour. You can time me, Mr. Sawyer;" and she ran gayly out of the room.

Quincy looked out of the window and saw that Hiram had put the nurse's heavy valise on the front seat of the carryall. The nurse herself was standing by the side of the team, evidently uncertain which seat to take. Quincy was quickly at her side.

"You can sit in here, Miss Miller," said Quincy, pointing to one of the rear seats; and when she was seated Quincy told Hiram to put the valise on the seat beside her. He had no idea of having Huldy take a back seat.

True to her promise, Huldy made her toilet in the appointed time, and taking her seat beside Quincy, he took up the reins. Turning to Hiram he asked, "If I drive by Hill's grocery and take the road to the left, will it bring me round to the main road to Eastborough Centre again?"

"Yaas," said Hiram, "you take the road where Mis' Hawkins's boardin'

house is on the corner. You remember that big yellow house. You know I told you Mandy's mother kept it."

"All right," said Quincy, and off they went.

Quincy gave a side glance at Huldy. He discovered she was throwing a side glance at him. They both smiled, but said nothing. He drove around the big tree that stood in the centre of the square in front of the grocery, which brought the team quite close to the store platform. No one was in sight, but just as he reached Mrs. Hawkins's boarding house the door opened and Obadiah Strout came out. Huldy placed her hand on Quincy's arm.

"Please hold up a minute, Mr. Sawyer."

Quincy brought the horse to a standstill with a jerk and looked straight ahead.

"Ah, good morning, Mr. Strout," said Huldy. "Did you get the letter I sent up by Hiram last evening about my taking music lessons?"

"Yes," said Mr. Strout, "and I was coming down this morning to settle on the best time for you taking them."

"Could you come to-morrow afternoon from two to three?" asked Huldy.

Strout took a well-worn memorandum book from his pocket and consulted it. "Three to four would be the best I could do," said he, "for I have a lesson from half-past one to half-past two."

"That will do just as well," replied Huldy. "Three to four to-morrow afternoon. Isn't this a beautiful day, Mr. Strout? I am taking a little drive for my health;" and she nodded smilingly to Strout, who had recognized Quincy as her companion.

"That's all, Mr. Sawyer," said Huldy, and they drove on.

"By thunder," said Strout, "they say the hair of a dog is good for his bite. Just as soon as she got well, off she goes riding again with the same feller who tipped the team over and broke her arm. I guess 'Zeke Pettengill's chances ain't worth much now. It beats all how 'Zeke can let that feller board in his house, but I suppose he does it to let us folks see that he don't care. Well, Huldy Mason is a bright little girl, and I always liked her. That city chap don't mean to marry her, and if I don't make the best of my chances when I get to teaching her music, my name ain't Obadiah Strout, which I guess it is." And he walked across the square to Hill's grocery to smoke his morning cigar.

On the way to Eastborough Centre Quincy wondered what he would do with Huldy when he arrived there. He did not care to take her to the Poorhouse, and particularly he did not wish her to see his uncle. Quincy was proud, but he was also sensible, and he decided upon a course of action that would prevent any one from saying that his pride had made him do a foolish act.

As they neared the Poorhouse Quincy turned to Huldy and said, "The Jim Sawyer who has been at the Eastborough Poorhouse for the last five years is my father's brother and my uncle. His story is a very sad one. I will tell it to you some day. He is in the last stages of consumption, and I am taking Miss Miller over to care for him while he lives."

Huldy nodded, and nothing more was said until they reached the Poorhouse. Quincy jumped out and called to Sam, who was close at hand, to hold the horse. Sam looked at him with a peculiar expression that Quincy did not stop to fathom, but running up the short flight of steps entered the room that served as the office for the Poorhouse. Mr. Waters was there writing at his desk. He turned as Quincy entered.

"How is my uncle?" asked Quincy.

"He is better off than us poor mortals," replied Mr. Waters with a long-drawn countenance.

"What do you mean?" asked Quincy. "Is he dead?"

"Yes," said Mr. Waters, "he died about four o'clock this mornin'. Sam sat up with him till midnight, and I stayed with him the balance of the time."