“That I could hardly do,” I answered, “seeing you are such regular attendants at church. But I confess I have given you ground for your rebuke, Miss Crowther. I bought a horse, however, the other day, and this is the first use I have put him to.”
“We’re charmed to see you. It is very good of you not to forget such uninteresting girls as we are.”
“You forget, Jemima,” interposed her sister, in a feminine bass, “that time is always on the wing. I should have thought we were both decidedly middle-aged, though you are the elder by I will not say how many years.”
“All but ten years, Hester. I remember rocking you in your cradle scores of times. But somehow, Mr Walton, I can’t help feeling as if she were my elder sister. She is so learned, you see; and I don’t read anything but the newspapers.”
“And your Bible, Jemima. Do yourself justice.”
“That’s a matter of course, sister. But this is not the way to entertain Mr Walton.”
“The gentlemen used to entertain the ladies when I was young, Jemima. I do not know how it may have been when you were.”
“Much the same, I believe, sister. But if you look at Mr Walton, I think you will see that he is pretty much entertained as it is.”
“I agree with Miss Hester,” I said. “It is the duty of gentlemen to entertain ladies. But it is so much the kinder of ladies when they surpass their duty, and condescend to entertain gentlemen.”
“What can surpass duty, Mr Walton? I confess I do not agree with your doctrines upon that point.”