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Every fine Saturday that summer Miss Cordelia took some of the factory children to the country. The Point Pleasant people nicknamed her equipage “Miss Cordelia’s accommodation,” and it became a mild standing joke.

As for Mr. Smiles, he proved a valuable assistant. Like Miss Cordelia, he gave his Saturdays over to the children, and high weekly revel was held at Beechwood Farm.

But when the big bronze and golden leaves began to fall in the beech woods, Miss Cordelia sorrowfully realized that the summer was over and that the weekly outings which she had enjoyed as much as the children must soon be discontinued.

“I feel so sorry,” she told Mr. Smiles, “but it can’t be helped. It will soon be too cold for our jaunts and of course I can’t keep Nap through the winter. I hate to part with him, I’ve grown so fond of him, but I must.”

She looked regretfully at Nap, who was nibbling Mr. Smiles’s clover aftermath. He was sleek and glossy. It had been the golden summer of Nap’s life.

Mr. Smiles coughed in an embarrassed fashion. Miss Cordelia looked at him and was amazed to see that not a smile was on or about his face. He looked absurdly serious.

“I want to buy Nap,” he said in a sepulchral tone, “but that is not the only thing I want. I want you too, ma’am. I’m tired of being a cross old bachelor. I think I’d like to be a cross old husband, for a change. Do you think you could put up with me in that capacity, Miss Cordelia, my dear?”

Miss Cordelia gave a half gasp and then she had to laugh. “Oh, Mr. Smiles, I’ll agree to anything if you’ll only smile again. It seems unnatural to see you look so solemn.”

The smiles at once broke loose and revelled over her wooer’s face.

“Then you will come?” he said eagerly.

Half an hour later they had their plans made. At New Year’s Miss Cordelia was to leave her school and sooty Pottstown and come to be mistress of Beechwood Farm.

“And look here,” said Mr. Smiles. “Every fine Saturday you shall have a big, roomy sleigh and Nap, and drive into town for some children and bring them out here for their weekly treat as usual. The house is large enough to hold them, goodness knows, and if it isn’t there are the barns for the overflow. This is going to be our particular pet charity all our lives, ma’am–I mean Cordelia, my dear.”

“Blessings on old Nap,” said Miss Cordelia with a happy light in her eyes.

“He shall live in clover for the rest of his days,” added Mr. Smiles smilingly.