"That was but a trifle compared to what he ought to have received,"
replied Jennie.
"You forget that it contained _your_ picture."
The compliment was so neatly put that all laughed, and the face of the
young lady became rosier than ever.
"Pardon me," Tom hastened to say; "of course the little fellow has
preserved those mementoes, and I should not he surprised if he turns up
some day when least expected."
"I hope so," was the fervent response of Jennie, in which sentiment her
parents joined.
It is not necessary to dwell upon the evening, which was a red letter one
in Tom Gordon's life. No more delightful hours were ever spent by him; and
when, without tarrying too late, he left, he could make no mistake as to
the sentiments of the three, and especially the youngest, toward him. He
had made an impression there, and it would be his own fault if it failed
to ripen into something serious.
But, as he walked homeward in the silvery moonlight, he felt a respect for
himself which, it is safe to say, would have come to few placed as he was.
He had not given the first hint that he was the boy who, at the risk of
his own life, had leaped into the wintry waters and rescued little Jennie
Warmore from death.
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