There was another interval of brief remarks and long pauses. Then Mr. Muir cleared his throat and began anew.
"I was just going to say, when Fuzz"—
Another interruption, this time from Fred, whose bell rang sharply. Bess again excused herself and ran up-stairs. She soon returned.
"Poor Fred," she said, as she seated herself once more; "he is paying dearly for his Thanksgiving frolic."
"Am I keeping you from him?" asked Mr. Muir courteously.
"Oh, no. There is nothing I can do for him now."
Mr. Muir drew his chair a little nearer to hers.
"Miss Carter," he said, "I have for a long time"—
"M-m-m-h-m-m-m," remarked Fuzz, in a plaintive falsetto.
Alas for Mr. Muir! Fuzz had brought his ball and laid it at the young man's feet, and then seated himself at a distance, wagging his tail, and blinking suggestively at his toy.