"I don't think he would," acquiesced the carpenter. The hand which the man had been holding hung limp and nerveless at her side. 101 He was a delightful teacher. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. “No,” said her brother, conclusively, “it’s not for a parent to go on persuading a child. I was resolved to see you.
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