It is just as I knew it would be,--and anybody can see that our young Marylander will be dead in love with her in a week.
Then if that little man would only turn out immensely rich and have the good-nature to die and leave them all his money, it would be as nice as a three-volume novel.
The Little Gentleman is in a flurry, I suspect, with the excitement of having such a charming neighbor next him.

I judge so mainly by his silence and by a certain rapt and serious look on his face, as if he were thinking of something that had happened, or that might happen, or that ought to happen,--or how beautiful her young life looked, or how hardly Nature had dealt with him, or something which struck him silent, at any rate.

I made several conversational openings for him, but he did not fire up as he often does.

I even went so far as to indulge in, a fling at the State House, which, as we all know, is in truth a very imposing structure, covering less ground than St.Peter's, but of similar general effect.

The little man looked up, but did not reply to my taunt.