“Miss Mayton,” said I, hastily, earnestly, but in a very low tone, “Budge is a marplot, but he is a truthful interpreter for all that.  But whatever my fate may be, please do not suspect me of falling suddenly into love for a holiday’s diversion.  My malady is of some months’ standing.  I—­”

“I want to talk some,” observed Budge.  “You talk all the whole time.  I—­I—­when I loves anybody I kisses them.”

Miss Mayton gave a little start, and my thoughts followed each other with unimagined rapidity.  She did not turn the conversation —­it could not be possible that she could not.  She was not angry, or she would have expressed herself.  Could it be that—­

I bent over her and acted upon Budge’s suggestion.  As she displayed no resentment, I pressed my lips a second time to her forehead, then she raised her head slightly, and I saw, in spite of darkness and shadows, that Alice Mayton had surrendered at discretion.  Taking her hand and straightening myself to my full height, I offered to the Lord mere fervent thanks than he ever heard from me in church.  Then I heard Budge say, “I wants to kiss you, too,” and I saw my glorious Alice snatch the little scamp into her arms, and treat him with more affection than I ever imagined was in her nature.  Then she seized Toddie, and gave him a few tokens of forgiveness—­I dare not think they were of gratitude.

Suddenly two or three ladies came upon the piazza.

“Come, boys,” said I.  “Then I’ll call with the carriage tomorrow at three, Miss Mayton.  Good evening.”

“Good evening,” replied the sweetest voice in the world; “I’ll be ready at three.”

“Budge,” said I, as soon as we were fairly outside the hedge-gate, “what do you like better than anything else in the world?”

“Candy,” said Budge, very promptly.

“What next?”

“Oranges.”

“What next?”

“Oh, figs, an’ raisins, an’ dear little kittie-kitties, an’ drums, an’ picture-books, an’ little bakin’ dishes to make mud-pies in, an’ turtles, an’ little wheelbarrows.”

“Anything else?”

“Oh, yes—­great big black dogs—­an’ a goat, an’ a wagon for him to draw me in.”

“Very well, old fellow—­you shall have every one of those things tomorrow.”

“Oh—­h—­h—­h—­h!” exclaimed Budge, “I guess you’re something like the Lord, ain’t you?”

“What makes you think so, Budge?”

“Oh, ’cause you can do such lots of things at once.  But ain’t poor little Tod goin’ to have noffin’?”

“Yes, everything he wants.  What would you like, Toddie?”

“Wants a candy cigar,” replied Toddie.

“What else?”

“Don’t want NUFFIN’ else—­don’t want to be boddered wif lots of fings.”