“Belief from such a source is most highly treasured,” commented Herbert smilingly. “Now that you have complimented me so generously, perhaps you will tell me what I must do to deserve it.”
“Buy the bedstead,” said Margaret dryly.
“To hear is to obey,” and putting whip to his horse, Herbert soon drew up before a down-town furniture store, where bedstead and clothing were purchased and dispatched on their way. A huge basket of provisions was next procured and stowed away in the buggy, while Margaret carried a smaller one of fruit.
“Let me carry these to your room,” said Herbert as they drew up before Margaret’s home. “You are to be sole almoner, for I beg you not to let my name appear in the transaction.”
“I shall be compelled to,” said Margaret, “if only as the mythical great and good man of all such works of charity. I could not truthfully bear the burden of so much generosity.”
“Paint me as glowingly as you please, if only you give me no local habitation or name.”
“Your wish shall be respected. Will my presence be necessary to-morrow?”
“No, I can save you all further trouble. And now good-night, and thank you for having given me a few genuinely happy hours.”
CHAPTER XVI.
“Well, we’ve won!” exclaimed Herbert the next day as, having mounted the stairs two at a time, he thrust his head into Margaret’s open door. “The men are putting the furniture into the room, and I’ve a little sop in the way of damages,” and he drew from his pocketbook a bank-note for ten dollars and laid it in Margaret’s lap.