too hard for me.”  And, as she said this, a little air of trouble came into the large eyes with which she was steadfastly regarding him.  “I don’t want to seem unkind to you, and I wish you would ask me something that I can do for you.  I’ll walk down to Howlett’s and get you anything you may like to have.  I’ll bring you a lot of novels which I found in the house, and which I expect, anyway, you will like better than those old-time books.  And I’ll cook you anything that is in the cook-book.  But I really cannot go wooing for you, and if you ask me to do that, every time I come near you, I really must—­”

“My dear Mrs Null,” interrupted Lawrence, “I promise not to say any more to you on this subject.  I see it is distasteful to you, and I beg your pardon for having mentioned it so often.  You have been very kind to me, indeed, and I should be exceedingly sorry to do anything to offend you.  It would be very bad for me to lose one of my friends, now that I am shut up in this box, and feel so very dependent.”

“Oh, indeed,” said Miss Annie.  “But I suppose if you were able to step around, as you used to do, it wouldn’t matter whether you offended me or not.”

“Mrs Null,” said Lawrence, “you know I did not mean anything like that.  Do you intend to be angry with me, no matter what I say?”

“Not a bit of it,” she answered, with a little smile that brought back to her face that warm brightness which had grown upon it since she had come down here.  “I haven’t the least wish in the world to be angry with you, and I promise you I won’t be, provided you’ll stop everlastingly asking me to go about helping you to make love to people.”

Lawrence laughed.  “Very good,” said he.  “I have promised to ask nothing more of that sort.  Let us shake hands on it.”

He stretched his hand from the window, and Miss Annie withdrew from the folds of her waterproof a very soft and white little hand, and put it into his.  “And now I must be off,” she said.  “Are you certain you don’t want anything from the store at Howlett’s?”

“Surely, you are not going as far as that,” he said.

“Not if you don’t want anything,” she answered.  “Have you tobacco enough to last through your imprisonment?  They keep it.”

“Now, miss,” said Lawrence; “do you want to make me angry by supposing I would smoke any tobacco that they sell in that country store?”

“It ought to be better than any other,” said Miss Annie.  “They grow it in the fields all about here, and the storekeepers can get it perfectly fresh and pure, and a great deal better for you, no doubt, than the stuff they manufacture in the cities.”

“When you learn to smoke,” said Lawrence, “your opinion concerning tobacco will be more valuable.”

“Thank you,” she said, “and I will wait till then before I give you any more of it.  Good morning.”  And away she went.