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"Perhaps he means well. The Idle Apprentice. A time may come when this little chap will need my aid, and, depend upon it, he shall never want a friend in Owen Wood. "That was the lad's name," returned the stranger. Of course, I can't promise you the job definitely. But if I were dying of thirst, in a desert, I would not accept a cup of water at her hands. His features were regular, and finely-formed; his complexion bright and blooming,—a little shaded, however, by travel and exposure to the sun; and, with a praiseworthy contempt for the universal and preposterous fashion then prevailing, of substituting a peruke for the natural covering of the head, he allowed his own dark-brown hair to fall over his shoulders in ringlets as luxuriant as those that distinguished the court gallant in Charles the Second's days—a fashion, which we do not despair of seeing revived in our own days. At least, I hope so for his sake as well as my own," he added, mentally. "I have been very unhappy. Her aunt leaped unhappily to the thought of penitence. No one could take the place for anything but what it was, and even Gosse hesitated in the doorway. ‘Hates doing the pretty. ’ ‘Even that he is, one must be practical.
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