"You haven't got a map of the county?" persisted the youth. "I'd ought to have one myself, and I guess I shall have to get me one. I'm a stranger in these parts."
Narcissa shook her head again. "We haven't got any kind of a map, as I know of," she said; but next moment her face brightened. "We've got a picture of Rome," she said,—"a real handsome picture. Would you like to see it?"
"Well, if it ain't too much trouble."
Narcissa led the way into the house, cautioning the stranger to tread softly. "Uncle Pinker is asleep," she said. "He's real old, and he sleeps in the afternoon, most times. He's so deef, he wouldn't hear you most likely, but you never can count on deef folks. Not but what he'd be pleased to see you," she added, with a doubtful look at a closed door as she passed it.
"I'd ought to make you acquainted with my name, seem's though," said the agent, following her into a dim, dreary room. "My name's Patten,—Romulus Patten." He paused, and then went on: "Folks always ask how I got my name, so I get into the way of firing right ahead before they ask. My mother got it out of the history book. She was a great hand for history, my mother was. It seems queer, my going to Rome, don't it? They made consid'able fun about it, down to our place, but I'm used to that, and don't mind it."
There was no answering gleam in Narcissa's lovely eyes. "Romulus? was he in the Revolution?" she asked. "I had to leave school before we got through history. I'd only got as far as the Battle of Lexington, when Aunt Pinker died, and I had to come and keep house for Uncle Pinker. It was real interestin'," she added, with a little sigh of regret, "I wish't I could have finished history."
Romulus Patten flushed with shame and anger,—not at the girl, but at the sordid people who had kept her in ignorance. He had gone through General History himself, and having a good memory, considered himself very well up in such matters. When he came back, he thought, perhaps he might manage to stop a spell, and tell her a little about things. Romulus in the Revolution! it was a scandalous shame, and she so sweet and pretty!
But here was the picture of Rome, and Narcissa turning with gentle pride to introduce him to it.
"Ain't it handsome?" she cried with enthusiasm. "I do like to look at it the most of anything, seem's though. I think you're real fortunate to be going there, Mr.—Mr. Patten."
She was silent, gazing with delight that was fresh every time her eyes rested on the beloved picture; and Romulus Patten was silent too.