His conversational powers were rather limited, and he felt at a loss when he undertook to make himself fascinating to the young ladies in the village.  If he could only play on the violin like Philip he thought he would be irresistible.

He had therefore conceived the design of buying Philip’s instrument for a trifle, judging that our hero would feel compelled to sell it.

The reader will now understand the object which led to Nick’s call so soon after the funeral of Mr. Gray.  He was afraid some one else might forestall him in gaining possession of the coveted instrument.

When Philip saw who his visitor was, he was not overjoyed.  It was with reluctance that he rose and gave admission to Nick.

“I thought I would call around and see you, Phil,” said Nick, as he sat down in the most comfortable chair in the room.

“Thank you,” responded Phil coldly.

“The old man went off mighty sudden,” continued Nicholas, with characteristic delicacy.

“Do you mean my father?” inquired Philip.

“Of course I do.  There ain’t any one else dead, is there!”

“I had been expecting my poor father’s death for some time,” said Philip gravely.

“Just so!  He wa’n’t very rugged.  We’ve all got to come to it sooner or later.  I expect dad’ll die of apoplexy some time-he’s so awful fat,” remarked Nicholas cheerfully.  “If he does, it’s lucky he’s got me to run the business.  I’m only eighteen, but I can get along as well as anybody.  I’m kinder smart in business.”

“I am glad you are smart in anything,” thought Philip; for he knew that Nick was a hopeless dunce in school duties.

“I hope your father’ll live a good while,” he said politely.

“Yes, of course,” said Nick lightly.  “I’d be sorry to have the old man pop off; but then you never can tell about such a thing as that.”

Philip did not relish the light way in which Nick referred to such a loss as he was suffering from, and, by way of changing the subject, said: 

“I believe you said you came on business, Nicholas?”

“Yes; that’s what I wanted to come at.  It’s about your fiddle.”

“My violin!” said Philip, rather surprised.

“Oh, well, fiddle or violin! what’s the odds?  I want to buy it.”

“What for?”

“To play on, of course!  What did you think I wanted it for?”

“But you can’t play, can you?”

“Not yet; but I expect you could show me some—­now, couldn’t you?”

“What put it into your head to want to play on the violin?” asked Philip, with some curiosity.

“Why, you see, the girls like it.  It would be kind of nice when I go to a party, or marm has company, to scrape off a tune or two-just like you do.  It makes a feller kinder pop’lar with the girls, don’t you see?” said Nick, with a knowing grin.

“And you want to be popular with the young ladies!” said Philip, smiling, in spite of his bereavement, at the idea being entertained by such a clumsy-looking caliban as Nick Holden.