so artfully simulated. Overcome by his heart-broken tone, but not entirely divested of suspicion, she said,—
"Dig under the tree near the roots, and you'll find lots; but mind you don't tell," for Mliss had her hoards as well as the rats and squirrels.
But the master, of course, was unable to find them; the effects of hunger probably blinding his senses. Mliss grew uneasy. At length she peered at him through the leaves in an elfish way, and questioned,—
"If I come down and give you some, you'll promise you won't touch me?"
The master promised.
"Hope you'll die if you do!"
The master accepted instant dissolution as a forfeit. Mliss slid down the tree. For a few moments nothing transpired but the munching of the pine-nuts. "Do you feel better?" she asked, with some solicitude. The master confessed to a recuperated feeling, and then, gravely thanking her, proceeded to retrace his steps. As he expected, he had not gone far before she called him. He turned. She was standing there quite white, with tears in her widely opened orbs. The master felt that the right moment had come. Going up to her, he took both her hands, and, looking in her tearful eyes, said, gravely, "Lissy, do you remember the first evening you came to see me?"
