“Hm-m,” smiled the stranger. “I was so successful that time, suppose I try my luck again.--You don’t go every day, I fancy, eh?”
“Sugar! How’d he know that, now?” chuckled Hezekiah, turning to his wife in open glee. “So we don’t, stranger, so we don’t,” he added, turning back to the man. “Ye hit it plumb right.”
“Hm-m! great place, Boston,” observed the stranger. “I’m glad you’re going. I think you’ll enjoy it.”
The two wrinkled old faces before him fairly beamed.
“I thank ye, sir,” said Hezekiah heartily. “I call that mighty kind of ye, specially as there are them that thinks we’re too old ter be enj’yin’ of anythin’.”
“Old? Of course you’re not too old! Why, you’re just in the prime to enjoy things,” cried the handsome man, and in the sunshine of his dazzling smile the hearts of the little old man and woman quite melted within them.
“Thank ye, sir, thank ye sir,” nodded Abigail, while Hezekiah offered his hand.
“Shake, stranger, shake! An’ I ain’t too old, an’ I’m agoin’ ter prove it. I’ve got money, sir, heaps of it, an’ I’m goin’ ter spend it--mebbe I’ll spend it all. We’re agoin’ ter see Bunker Hill an’ Faneuil Hall, an’ we’re agoin’ ter ride in the subway. Now, don’t tell me we don’t know how ter enj’y ourselves!”
It was a very simple matter after that. On the one hand were infinite tact and skill; on the other, innocence, ignorance, and an overwhelming gratitude for this sympathetic companionship.
Long before Boston was reached Mr. and Mrs. Warden and “Mr. Livingstone” were on the best of terms, and when they separated at the foot of the car-steps, to the old man and woman it seemed that half their joy and all their courage went with the smiling man who lifted his hat in farewell before being lost to sight in the crowd.