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 bushes in the yard. I remembered I had dropped off to sleep on a bench in the Shelbyville station, waiting to see which train she took, and only just managed to wake up in time.

“And then I told her why I had come, as respectful and earnest as I could. And I told her everything about myself, and what I was making, and how that all I asked was just to get acquainted with her and try to get her to like me.

“She smiles a little, and blushes some, but her eyes never get mixed up. They look straight at whatever she’s talking to.

“‘I never had any one talk like this to me before, Mr. Pescud,’ says she. ‘What did you say your name is—John?’

“‘John A.,’ says I.

“‘And you came mighty near missing the train at Powhatan Junction, too,’ says she, with a laugh that sounded as good as a mileage-book to me.

“‘How did you know?’ I asked.

“‘Men are very clumsy,’ said she. ‘I knew you were on every train. I thought you were going to speak to me, and I’m glad you didn’t.’

“Then we had more talk; and at last a kind of proud, serious look came on her face, and she turned and pointed a finger at the big house. Rh