The red cap nodded affably.
"Could you climb in through the window, s'pose?" she asked.
This was such a new and startling novelty at the Van Stark homestead, that the visitor laughed, while the parlor maid patiently waited for his decision.
He had shone in athletics at his college, so when he stopped laughing, he put his hands on the stone window-sill leading into the library, and vaulted in so lightly and easily, that Beth was delighted to think she had thought of it.
She then went back to adjust her sweeping cap, which had dropped off, and to pick up the salver, which she had put down to free her hands.
"Put your card there," she instructed him, bobbing her head towards the exact centre of the salver, and thereby completely covering one eye with that abominably big and wobbly cap.
The reverend gentleman gravely complied, whereupon the maid swung herself around, but with caution, somewhat after the manner of a boat carrying too much sail.
After Mrs. Van Stark had come down, the parlor maid reappeared without her badges of office, and was duly presented to the rector of the church, who made no sign, save a twinkle of his eye, of having met her in another, and humbler capacity, but shook hands and talked to her without that insufferable air of patronage which elder people at times seem to delight to bestow upon their juniors.
As he was taking his leave, he explained that he was going down into the grove for a little while to read and to take pictures.
As he went out, they met, coming in, an old lady whom Grandmother Van Stark greeted with rare cordiality, kissing her on both cheeks and calling her Tildy Ann. She called grandmother Jane Somerset, and explained that her son, going to town, had brought her that far on his way, and would call for her on his return.