Suddenly Eben Merritt burst into a great roar of laughter, and struck the boy a kindly slap upon his small back.

“By the Lord Harry!” cried he, “you’ve struck a scheme worthy of the Jews.  But you need good Christians to deal with!”

Jerome started and stared at him, half anxiously, half resentfully.  “Ain’t it right, sir?” he stammered.

“Oh, your scheme is right enough; no trouble about that.  The question is whether Doctor Prescott is right.”

Eben Merritt burst into another roar of laughter as he arose and set the boy on his feet.  “I am not laughing at you, my boy,” he said, though Jerome’s wondering, indignant eyes upon his face were, to his thinking, past humorous.

Then he laid a hand upon each of the boy’s little homespun shoulders.  “Go and see Doctor Prescott, and tell him your plan, and—­if he does not approve of it, come here and let me know,” he said, and seriously enough to suit even Jerome’s jealous self-respect.

“Yes, sir,” said Jerome.

“And,” added the Squire, “you had better go a little after noon—­you will be more likely to find him at home.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Are you afraid to go out alone after dark?” asked the Squire.

“No, sir,” replied Jerome, proudly.

“Well, then,” said the Squire, “come and see me this evening, and tell me what Doctor Prescott says.”

“Yes, sir,” replied Jerome, and bobbed his head, and turned to go.  The Squire moved before him with his lounging gait, and opened the door for him with ceremony, as for an honored guest.

Out in the south entry, with her back against the opposite wall, well removed from the south-room door, that she might not hear one word not intended for her ears, stood Lucina waiting, with one little white hand clinched tight, as over a treasure.  When her father came out, following Jerome, she ran forward to him, pulled his head down by a gentle tug at his long beard, and whispered.  Squire Eben laughed and smoothed her hair, but looked at her doubtfully.  “I don’t know about it, Pretty,” he whispered back.

“Please, father,” she whispered again, and rubbed her soft cheek against his great arm, and he laughed again, and looked at her as a man looks at the apple of his eye.

“Well,” said he, “do as you like, Pretty.”  With that the little Lucina sprang eagerly forward before Jerome, who, hardly certain whether he were dismissed or not, yet eager to be gone, was edging towards the outer door, and held out to him her little hand curved into a sweet hollow like a cup of pearl, all full of silver coins.

Jerome looked at her, gave a quick, shamed glance at the little outstretched hand, colored red, and began backing away.