Next day, I think it was, in the afternoon, he asked Letitia to walk with him to the banks of Troublesome, to a spot which she had praised the night before. His heart was full, and as they lingered together by those singing waters he told her of his struggles in the city whose statue he had never climbed. He told her of his black days there, of his failure and despondency, of his plans to leave it and desert his dreams, but how that mighty, roaring, dragon creature had held him pinioned in its claws till he had won.
"And then," he told her, "when I saw my book, I looked again, and it was not a dragon which had held me—it was an angel!"
Seeing that her eyes were full of tears, he added, earnestly:
"Miss Primrose, I wanted you to know. You had a part in that little triumph."
"I?"
"You. Don't you remember? Don't you remember those books you left for us?—in our old school-room?—on the shelf?"