Stanley regarded his neighbor’s clean-shaven face almost warily. She removed it. His hunger satisfied, his spirits began to revive, and with this change of mood all his natural audacity returned. Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. "There, Sir," she added, unlocking the door, "you can go in. “You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic reason. Mr.
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