Edward C. Bruce.
"FOR PERCIVAL."
CHAPTER XXXIX.
SHORT RECKONINGS MAKE LONG FRIENDS.
It was the first of March, and a wild wind was hurrying fragments of white cloud across the blue. Percival had taken his breakfast in snatches, performing on his bell meanwhile. Emma had not brought his boots, and would not so much as come to be told that he wanted them. At last, despairing, he went out on the landing and shouted his request to her as she shuffled on some errand below. Turning to go back, he met Miss Lisle, who had just come down the stairs behind him.
They stood for a moment exchanging trivial remarks. To them came a stout, fresh-colored, peculiarly innocent-looking old man, who went by with a beaming smile and a slight bow.
"That's Mr. Fordham," said Judith: "I don't think I ever saw him so close before."