always looks so kind and pleasant, and not so old as the other professors; then he can tell so many fine stories of by-gone times, which though they almost make one’s hair stand on end, are very pretty to hear. And as to the strange lodger, he is, perhaps, much better in his heart, than he sometimes appears to me.”
“May be so, child; but I wish I had stayed in my own little house. Whenever I go past it, I feel a kind of sinking at my heart; it was much pleasanter there.”
“Yet I think you used to complain and groan more there, than you do here, grandfather.”
“How can you make that out, Margery? You know I only removed just to please good Mr. Professor. I wish from my heart he had continued to live here instead of us; at all events he would have paid no house rent! yet he would not listen to the idea for a moment; but now, my dear, let us think of the door! see that it is made quite fast!”
Little Margery did as her grandfather bade her; she turned the key three times in the lock; slipped the bolts as far as they would go, and then both seated themselves with a feeling of quiet and security, snugly round their little hearth.
“Shall I go on reading where I left off, gran-gran?” said the pretty child with a smile. The good natured old man nodded assent, at the same time
