It was blunt. It was truthful. It was Chip all over; but this polished rake never winced.
“I never dispute a lady,” he answered suavely; “it doesn’t pay. Besides, I have found they all prefer sweet lies instead of truth. And now I will admit you looked so charming as you raised your face from among the flowers that I was dazed and didn’t think to bow.”
“You weren’t so dazed but that you managed to get away in a hurry.”
“Why, of course, I was piloting my friends up to the lily pond,” he returned, still unruffled, “and much as I desired, I couldn’t pause to visit with you.”
They had now reached Chip’s home. She halted at the gate, turned, and looked at him.
“I hope we may be friends, now that you have scolded me enough,” he added. “I had a delightful week with you last summer. I’ve lived it over many times. May I not call here to-morrow, and you and I will gather some of the lilies?”
A droll smile crept over Chip’s face at this.
“Yes, if you will bring your lady friends also,” she answered. And with a “Thank you,” and raising his hat once more, this smooth-spoken fellow, impervious to sarcasm, turned away.
“Who was the young man?” Aunt Abby queried, when Chip entered the house.
“It’s a Mr. Goodnow, who spent a week with Uncle Jud,” she answered, smiling. “He came by here yesterday with three ladies and was close to me when I was working in my posy bed. He made out he didn’t remember me then, when I met him this afternoon. I guess I was saucy to him. I meant to be. He wouldn’t take it, and walked home with me.”