"I don't have anything to do with my neighbours," interposed Mrs. Berryman, in such a brusque manner that Melina blushed with shame; "I make it a rule to keep myself to myself." She spoke as though to do that was a virtue.
Mr. Blackmore's eyes, full of kindliness and good will, yet searching too, were fixed gravely on the old woman's lined countenance, reading its expression.
"I can never understand how anyone can do that," he remarked, "I am sure that I couldn't; but then I'm naturally a sociable disposition. Do you mean that you would rather I did not call upon you, then?"
Mrs. Berryman hesitated what response to give to this direct question. She glanced at Melina, who was looking at her appealingly, and, contrary to her custom, decided to show consideration for her granddaughter's feelings.
"I did mean that," she answered, "but if you like to call, sir, please do."
"Thank you," said the little gentleman.
He did not prolong the conversation further, but said "good night"; and after that Melina and her grandmother left the hall and turned their footsteps homewards. It was a lovely night, with a clear sky, bright with stars, and a soft breeze which was very refreshing.
"Now you know Mr. Blackmore, Gran," the little girl remarked; "what do you think of him?"
"I think he means well," Mrs. Berryman admitted; "he seems very earnest, and he evidently believes all he talked about to-night—about Jesus having died for our sakes."
"Oh yes!" Melina's voice was full of eagerness. "Are you glad you went with me?" she inquired.