He spoke playfully, but something, either in his tone or in the knowledge she had of his life, touched her, and made her voice very kind, as she answered—
“I did not mean that I thought you too old. I meant that I could not think of classing you with a creature like Frederick Williams.”
“He would take that as a compliment.”
“I don’t think he would if he saw me look at him and then at you while I said so.”
Mr. Brander pulled up his clerical collar, and affected to give his hat a jaunty cock.
“It’s so long since I’ve been ‘buttered up,’ and it’s so nice,” said he.
“Why, you have a great following among the ladies of the village.”
“I am afraid I look upon them—though without so much reason—much as you do upon their counterparts of the opposite sex.”
“And Mrs. Brander, doesn’t she, in return for your services at marketing and nailing pictures, ‘butter you up’ too?”
The gaiety, which had sat so pleasantly on the usually grave man, suddenly evaporated. He answered, very quietly—