This intelligence, which she instantly communicated to the carpenter, drove him almost frantic. She could now see to read; so she stirred the manuscript about until she came upon the first page. Here was a hole as wide as a church-door. “You are very kind,” she said hesitatingly, “but I don’t remember—I don’t think that I know you, do I?” “I am afraid that you do not,” he admitted, with a smile which he meant to be encouraging. That was the wonder of these stories; one lived in them. “I tell my Mom everything. Such was the effect produced upon the passengers by his good looks and manly deportment, that few—especially of the gentler and more susceptible sex—failed to turn round and bestow a second glance upon the handsome stranger.
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