“Your affectionate mother,

“NANCY NEWT.”

Abel read the letters, and stood looking at the floor, musingly.  His school days, then, were numbered; the stage was to be deepened and widened—­the scenery and the figures so wonderfully changed!  He was to step in a moment from school into the world.  He was to lie down one night a boy, and wake up a man the next morning.

The cloud of thoughts and fancies that filled his mind all drifted toward one point—­all floated below a summit upon which stood the only thing he could discern clearly, and that was the figure of Hope Wayne.  Just as he thought he could reach her, was he to be torn away?

And who was Mr. Alfred Dinks?

CHAPTER X.

BEGINNING TO SKETCH.

The next morning when Gabriel declared that he was perfectly well and had better return, nobody opposed his departure.  Hope Wayne, indeed, ordered the carriage so readily that the poor boy’s heart sank.  Yet Hope pitied Gabriel sincerely.  She wished he had not been injured, because then there would have been nobody guilty of injuring him; and she was quite willing he should go, because his presence reminded her too forcibly of what she wanted to forget.

The poor boy drove dismally away, thinking what a dreadful thing it is to be young.

After he had gone Hope Wayne sat upon the lawn reading.  Suddenly a shadow fell across the page, and looking up she saw Abel Newt standing beside her.  He had his cap in one hand and a port-folio in the other.  The blood rushed from Hope’s cheek to her heart; then rushed back again.  Abel saw it.

Rising from the lawn and bowing gravely, she turned toward the house.

“Miss Wayne,” said Abel, in a voice which was very musical and very low—­she stopped—­“I hope you have not already convicted and sentenced me.”

He smiled a little as he spoke, not familiarly, not presumptuously, but with an air which indicated his entire ability to justify himself.  Hope said: 

“I have no wish to be unjust.”

“May I then plead my own cause?”

“I must go into the house—­I will call my grandfather, whom I suppose you wish to see.”

“I am here by his permission, and I hope you will not regard me as an intruder.”

“Certainly not, if he knows you are here;” and Hope lingered to hear if he had any thing more to say.

“It was a very sudden affair.  We were both hot and angry; but he is smaller than I, and I should have done nothing had he not struck me, and fallen upon me so that I was obliged to defend myself.”

“Yes—­to be sure—­in that case,” said Hope, still lingering, and remarking the music of his voice.  Abel continued—­while the girl’s eyes saw how well he looked upon that lawn—­the clustering black hair—­the rich eyes—­the dark complexion—­the light of intelligence playing upon his face—­his dress careful but graceful—­and the port-folio which showed this interview to be no design or expectation, but a mere chance—­