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 without apparently the slightest concern whether anybody else spoke, whether he was listened to, or whether his remarks were at all relevant to the case. Yet he was always listened to for that reason. When he had finished writing, he folded up the paper, put it in an envelope, and addressed it.
“Shall I take it to her?” said Leonidas eagerly.
“It's not for HER; it's for him—Mr. Burroughs,” said Mr. Hamlin quietly.
The boy drew back. “To get him out of the way,” added Hamlin explanatorily. “When he gets it, lightning wouldn't keep him here. Now, how to send it,” he said thoughtfully.
“You might leave it at the post-office,” said Leonidas timidly. “He always goes there to watch his wife's letters.”
For the first time in their interview Mr. Hamlin distinctly laughed.
“Your head is level, Leo, and I'll do it. Now the best thing you can do is to follow Mrs. Burroughs's advice. Quit going to the house for a day or two.” He walked towards his horse. The boy's face sank, but he kept up bravely. “And will I see you again?” he said wistfully.
Mr. Hamlin lowered his face so near the boy's that Leonidas could see himself in the brown depths of Mr. Hamlin's eyes. “I hope you will,” he said gravely. He mounted, shook the boy's hand, and rode away in the lengthening shadows. Then Leonidas walked sadly home.