He found him at home, but for a wonder he was not
working.
"This is an off day with me," he explained; "this is our haying season,
and I've been working nights, days, and Sundays for a fortnight."
"I came to express Miss Pettengill's obligations and thanks for your
kind and very successful efforts in her behalf."
"Oh! that's all right," said Leopold. "By the way, have you told her she
ought to write a book?"
"Not yet," said Quincy; "but I'm going to soon. She has just lost a dear
friend; but I won't forget it."
"Don't!" repeated Leopold. "She is a diamond that ought to be dug up,
cut, and set in eighteen carat gold. Excuse my apparently brutal
language, but you get my meaning."
"Certainly," said Quincy; "and you are not working to-day."
"No," replied Leopold; "loafing and enjoying it, too. I've a good mind
to turn vagrant and loaf on, loaf ever."
"Come down to Parker's and have dinner with me."
"Can't do it," replied Leopold; "my stomach is loafing, too. 'Twouldn't
be fair to make it work and do nothing myself. Just as much obliged.
Some other day.
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