“It was enough to make a minister swear,” said he, in apology.

“No, it wasn’t, uncle; the boy was a little pert, it is true; but you ought to have laughed at him, instead of getting angry.  I heard the whole of it.”

“Pert?” said Bobby to himself.  “What the deuse does she mean by that?”

“Very well, you little minx; I will pay the penalty.”

“Come here, Master Pert,” said the lady to Bobby.

Bobby bowed, approached the lady, and began to feel very much embarrassed.

“My uncle,”, she continued, “is one of the best hearted men in the world—­ain’t you, uncle?”

“Go on, you jade!”

“I love him, as I would my own father; but he will sometimes get into a passion.  Now, you provoked him.”

“Indeed, ma’am, I hadn’t the least idea of saying any thing uncivil,” pleaded Bobby.  “I studied to be as polite as possible.”

“I dare say.  You were too important, too pompous, for a boy to an old gentleman like uncle, who is really one of the best men in the world.  Now, if you hadn’t studied to be polite, you would have done very well.”

“Indeed, ma’am, I am a poor boy, trying to make a little money to help my mother.  I am sure I meant no harm.”

“I know you didn’t.  So you are selling books to help your mother?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She inquired still further into the little merchant’s history, and seemed to be very much interested in him.

In a frolic, a few days before, Bobby learned from her, Colonel Whiting had agreed to pay any penalty she might name, the next time he got into a passion.

“Now, young man, what book have you to sell?” asked the lady.

“‘The Wayfarer.’”

“How many have you in your valise?”

“Eight.”

“Very well; now, uncle, I decree, as the penalty of your indiscretion, that you purchase the whole stock.”

“I submit.”

“‘The Wayfarer’ promises to be an excellent book:  and I can name at least half a dozen persons who will thank you for a copy, uncle.”

Colonel Whiting paid Bobby eight dollars, who left the contents of his valise on the centre table, and then departed, astounded at his good fortune, and fully resolved never to be too smart again.

CHAPTER XI.

In which Bobby strikes A balance, and returns to Riverdale.

Our hero had learned a lesson which experience alone could teach him.  The consciousness of that “something within him” inclined him to be a little too familiar with his elders; but then it gave him confidence in himself, and imparted courage to go forward in the accomplishment of his mission.  His interview with Colonel Whiting and the gentle but plain rebuke of his niece had set him right, and he realized that, while he was doing a man’s work, he was still a boy.  He had now a clearer perception of what is due to the position and dignity of those upon whom fortune has smiled.