Presently the volume he admired so much disappeared.

“There!  I shall never see it any more!” said Ishmael, with a sigh; “but I’m glad some boy is going to get it!  Oh, won’t he be happy to-night, though!  Wish it was I!  No, I don’t neither; it’s a sin to covet!”

And a few minutes after the gentleman emerged from the shop with an oblong packet in his hand.

“It was the last copy he had left, my boy, and I have secured it!  Now do you really think my young friend will like it?” asked Mr. Middleton.

“Oh, sir, won’t he though, neither!” exclaimed Ishmael, in sincere hearty sympathy with the prospective happiness of another.

“Well, then, my little friend must take it,” said Mr. Middleton, offering the packet to Ishmael.

“Sir!” exclaimed the latter.

“It is for you, my boy.”

“Oh, sir, I couldn’t take it, indeed!  It is only another way of paying me for a common civility,” said Ishmael, shrinking from the gift, yet longing for the book.

“It is not; it is a testimonial of my regard for you, my boy!  Receive it as such.”

“I do not deserve such a testimonial, and cannot receive it, sir,” persisted Ishmael.

“There, uncle, I told you so!” exclaimed Claudia, springing from the carriage and taking the book from the hand of Mr. Middleton.

She went to the side of Ishmael, put her arm around his neck, drew his head down against hers, leaned her bright cheek against his, and said: 

“Come, now, take the book; I know you want it; take it like a good boy; take it for my sake,”

Still Ishmael hesitated a little.

Then she raised the parcel and pressed it to her lips and handed it to him again, saying: 

“There, now, you see I’ve kissed it.  Fido would take anything I kissed; won’t you?”

Ishmael now held out his hands eagerly for the prize, took it and pressed it to his jacket, exclaiming awkwardly but earnestly: 

“Thank you, miss!  Oh, thank you a thousand, thousand times, miss!  You don’t know how much I wanted this book, and how glad I am!”

“Oh, yes, I do.  I’m a witch, and know people’s secret thoughts.  But why didn’t you take the book when uncle offered it?”

“If you are a witch, miss, you can tell.”

“So I can; it was because you don’t love uncle as well as you love me!  Well, Fido doesn’t either.  But uncle is a nice man for all that.”

“I wonder who ‘Fido’ is,” thought the poor boy.  “I do wonder who he is; her brother, I suppose.”

“Come, Claudia, my love, get into the carriage; we must go home,” said Mr. Middleton, as he assisted his niece to her seat.

“I thank you very much, sir, for this very beautiful book,” said Ishmael, going up to Mr. Middleton and taking off his hat.

“You are very welcome, my boy; so run home now and enjoy it,” replied the gentleman, as he sprang into the carriage and took the reins.