"Yes, my dear," he replied, with a wistful look at her pretty face--a strangely jealous look, too, which seemed to imply that he would have been better pleased if she were a little less bright.
"Nice company?" she asked.
"A gentleman--one who has been kind to me."
She nodded with conscious grace, and stood before the old man with an assertion of prettiness upon her which heightened the contrast between her graceful person and his unattractive form. Not that the contrast was in her mind; she did not think of it, but it would have been forced upon an observer.
"We heard you talking," she said.
"You have had company also, Lizzie."
"O, yes." With a blush and a smile.
"We heard you talking, my dear."
"I suppose we made a great noise; Some One talks very loud sometimes."
"You did not make a noise, my dear, but we heard you. Lizzie," he said, as if the thought had just occurred to him, "your candle was out when you came in."