"Look out!" broke in a rich voice. "I shan't let you say there's anything finer than this!"
"Not even a sunset?" laughed Miss Crilly, as Nelson Randolph appeared in the doorway,
"A sunset is all right in its proper place," he smiled; "but when I want to ornament a chandelier I prefer this." He held up a large spray of mistletoe. "What do you think?" he challenged Miss Crilly.
"I guess you've got me this time!" she laughed.
"And I may get you again, my girl, before the evening is out!" He shook a warning finger in her direction.
"Dear me!" she cried, "I'm glad I came! To be called a 'girl'! I, an old maid of—I won't tell how many 'summers'! Thank you, Mr. Randolph!"
"If all old maids were as young as you there wouldn't be any," he responded gallantly.
She laughed her blushing protest, while he went for a stepladder.
The mistletoe, in its place of honor among the evergreens, brought forth many expressions of admiration.
The host surveyed it with satisfaction.