“So you are a minister’s son.  I have always heard that minister’s sons are apt to be wild,” said the girl, smiling mischievously.

“I am an exception,” said Grant, demurely.

“I am ready to believe it,” returned his companion.  “My name is Carrie Clifton; my mother is a minister’s daughter, so I have a right to think well of ministers’ families.”

“How long have you been boarding in this neighborhood, Miss Carrie?”

“Only a week.  I am afraid I shan’t dare to stay here any longer.”

“It is not often you would meet with such an adventure as this.  I hope you won’t allow it to frighten you away.”

“Do you know that drunken man?  Does he live nearby?”

“I think he is a stranger—­a tramp.  I never saw him before, and I know almost everybody who lives about here.”

“I am glad he doesn’t live here.”

“He will probably push on his way and not come this way again during the summer.”

“I hope you are right.  He might try to revenge himself on you for tripping him up.”

“I don’t think he saw me to recognize me.  He was so drunk that he didn’t know what he was about.  When he gets over his intoxication he probably won’t remember anything that has happened.”

By this time they had reached the gate of the farmhouse where Carrie was boarding, and Grant prepared to leave her.

“I think you are safe now,” he said.

“Oh, but I shan’t let you go yet,” said the girl.  “You must come in and see mother.”

Grant hesitated, but he felt that he should like to meet the mother of a young lady who seemed to him so attractive, and he allowed himself to be led into the yard.  Mrs. Clifton was sitting in a rustic chair under a tree behind the house.  There Grant and his companion found her.  Carrie poured forth her story impetuously, and then drawing Grant forward, indicated him as her rescuer.

Her mother listened with natural alarm, shuddering at the peril from which her daughter had so happily escaped.

“I cannot tell how grateful I am to you for the service you have done my daughter,” she said, warmly.  “You are a very brave boy.  There is not one in ten who would have had the courage to act as you did.”

“You praise me more than I deserve, Mrs. Clifton.  I saw the man was drunk, and I did not really run much risk in what I did.  I am very thankful that I was able to be of service to Miss Carrie.”

“It is most fortunate that you were at hand.  My daughter might have been killed.”

“What do you think, mother?  He is a minister’s son,” said Carrie, vivaciously.

“That certainly is no objection in my eyes,” said Mrs. Clifton, smiling, “for I am a minister’s daughter.  Where does your father preach?”

“His church is only a mile distant, in the village.”

“I shall hear him, then, next Sunday.  Last Sunday Carrie and I were both tired, and remained at home, but I have always been accustomed to go to church somewhere.”