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 singular character. She is real good, and he'll find it out.

"What is his name?"

"Ernest Livingston, and it is a name I like too."

Not many days elapsed before Walter invited him to spend the evening at his mother's house. Rosalind as he feared, gave him a cold reception. She took very little part in the conversation, and even left the parlor before the departure of their guest. She looked upon him very much as an intruder, and anticipated frequent repetitions of his visits from the intimacy she saw springing up between him and Walter. So far as they were concerned she was glad of it, not being naturally a selfish person, but grief is always selfish, and she did not wish to have their own private circle broken in upon by strangers.

They had made no new acquaintances since her father's death and she coveted seclusion. However, she always acted entirely independent of him, and he never urged her into conversation. Aside from treating her with true gentlemanly courtesy as he did every one, he took little notice of her. A very friendly feeling sprung up between him and Mrs. Claremont, the latter offering him the hospitality of her house whenever it would be agreeable to him, which was quite often. She could not have selected a more desirable companion for her son, and his being several years his senior she considered also a great advantage. Though only a boy, Walter's quick perceptions and moral intuitions imparted the maturity of manhood, so that his most intimate associates were always older than himself. He soon became