He says, "Can't I do anything for you? Tell me—just anything."
"Yes," says the young lady, shortly. Then she considers a moment and asks:
"You know where this Bishop Kruger lives?"
"No, but I can easily find out."
"Very well. Will you take a note to him for me?"
"With pleasure!" he cries, as if glad she has given him a chance to do her service. So, sitting down, she writes a few lines hurriedly, and gives the epistle to Mr. Chauncey.
Half an hour afterward he returns, and knocks on her door. She is engaged with her maid, who has become frightened at being left behind the Livingston party, and says she wishes to return to New York.
Answering his summons, Erma asks anxiously, "Did you deliver it?"
"Yes; he was in his shirt sleeves, but he read it, and said he would be down in the morning. He seemed to chuckle over it. I don't think I would trust your father's friend any too much," suggests the boy.
"Thank you," cries the girl, "for your advice and your kindness," and being desperately grateful for this one act of consideration shown to her this night, she says to him suddenly: "Good-bye. God bless you, Ferdie!" and gives him an impetuous kiss—the sweetest he has ever had in his life, though with it she leaves a tear upon his cheek.