“Don’t be saucy,” continued her tormentor; “I only want to see what sort of stuff you are made of.”

“Made of dirt” muttered ’Lena.

“I reckon you are,” returned the boy; “but say, where did you come from and who do you live with?”

“I came from Massachusetts, and I live with granny,” said ’Lena, thinking that if she answered him civilly, he would perhaps let her alone.  But she was mistaken.

Glancing at “granny,” he burst into a loud laugh, and then placing his hat a little more on one side, and assuming a nasal twang, he said, “Neow dew tell, if you’re from Massachusetts.  How dew you dew, little Yankee, and how are all the folks to hum?”

Feeling sure that not only herself but all her relations were included in this insult, ’Lena darted forward hitting him a blow in the face, which he returned by puffing smoke into hers, whereupon she snatched the cigar from his mouth and hurled it into the street, bidding him “touch her again if he dared.”  All this transpired so rapidly that Mrs. Nichols had hardly time to understand its meaning, but fully comprehending it now, she was about coming to the rescue, when her son reappeared, exclaiming, “John, John Livingstone, Jr., how came you here?”

Had a cannon exploded at the feet of John Jr., as he was called, he could not have been more startled.  He was not expecting his father for two or three days, and was making the most of his absence by having what he called a regular “spree.”  Taking him altogether, he was, without being naturally bad, a spoiled child, whom no one could manage except his father, and as his father seldom tried, he was of course seldom managed.  Never yet had he remained at any school more than two quarters, for if he were not sent away, he generally ran away, sure of finding a champion in his mother, who had always petted him, calling him, “Johnny darling,” until he one day very coolly informed her that she was “a silly old fool,” and that “he’d thank her not to ‘Johnny darling’ him any longer.”

It would be difficult to describe the amazement of John Jr. when ’Lena was presented to him as his cousin, and Mrs. Nichols as his grandmother.  Something which sounded very much like an oath escaped his lips, as turning to his father he muttered, “Won’t mother go into fits?” Then, as he began to realize the ludicrousness of the whole affair, he exclaimed, “Rich, good, by gracious!” and laughing loudly, he walked away to regale himself with another cigar.

Lena began to tremble for her future happiness, if this boy was to live in the same house with her.  She did not know that she had already more than half won his good opinion, for he was far better pleased with her antagonistical demonstrations, than he would have been had she cried or ran from him, as his sister Anna generally did when he teased her.  After a few moments here turned to the parlor, and walking up to Mrs. Nichols, commenced talking very sociably with her, calling her “Granny,” and winking slyly at ’Lena as he did so.  Mr. Livingstone had too much good sense to sit quietly by and hear his mother ridiculed by his son, and in a loud, stern voice he bade the young gentleman “behave himself.”