"How big you are, Burleigh!" she said, glancing admiringly over his breadth of shoulder and chest, the strong head, and the firm, large hands.
"You told me that the other day," he said ruefully; "but I can't help it."
"Help it? Of course not. What makes you think I meant any thing but praise?"
"I thought I was so big and clumsy, that you must be making fun of me."
"Oh, no! I was only thinking what a mere morsel Flossy looked beside you at the picnic."
He blushed, and pulled at his hat, after his usual awkward fashion; and at that moment, as if summoned by a call-boy for her part in the play, Flossy herself appeared in the doorway, bowl of pop-corn, and all.
"Good-morning, Mr. Blood," she said. "Can you tell why mutton always tastes catty? As if it were cats, I mean."
"I—I never tasted any cats," he said with the utmost earnestness.
"No? Well, I wouldn't. But why didn't you come to inquire how I felt after the picnic? Montfield manners and bonnets both need to be issued in a revised edition."
"Montfield manners are perfect," Patty said, coming to the rescue of the guest. "They cannot be improved. But you remember, Flossy, what you had to ask Burleigh."