CHAPTER III
MAXWELTON BRAES
“Oh the song—the song in the blood!
Magic walks the forest; there’s bewitchment on the air—
Spring is at the flood!”
—The Gypsy Heart.
“Well, sir, this here feller, he lit a cigarette an’ throwed away the match, an’ it fell in a powder kaig; an’ do you know, more’n half that powder burned up before they could put it out! Yes, sir!”—Wildcat Thompson.
Ellinor opened her basket and spread its tempting wares with pretty hostly care—or is there such a word as hostessly?
“There! All ready, Mr.——I declare, this is too absurd! We don’t even know each other’s names!” Her conscious eye fell upon the ampleness of the feast—amazing, since it purported to have been put up for one alone; and her face lit up with mischievous delight. She curtsied. “If you please, I’m the Ultimate Consumer!”
He rose, bowing gravely.
“I am the Personal Devil. Glad to meet you.”
“Oh! I’ve heard of you!” remarked the Ultimate Consumer sweetly. She sat down and extended her hand across the spotless linen. “Mr. Lake says——”