"Thought I'd let you come and see me awhile; turn about is fair play. Besides, I don't think it would be safe in this cold weather. It's chilly enough business even in the summer time."
Clara held out manfully—or—womanly—"George Udell; you knew very well that I would come here if you staid away from my home; and it's real mean of you, when you knew how bad I wanted to see you, to make me come out in all this snow."
George looked troubled. "I'll take my death of cold, and then how'll you feel?—" George looked still more worried—"I've not felt very well lately anyway—" George looked frightened; "and I—came all the way—down here—just to see what was the matter." The printer looked happy. "And now you don't want me to stay, and I'll go home again." She moved toward her umbrella, Udell got it first. Whir—Whir—went the motor, and clank—clank—clank—sounded the press. Dick was feeding the machine and must necessarily keep his eyes on his work, while the noise prevented any stray bits of the conversation from reaching his ears. Besides this, Dick was just now full of sympathy. Clara let go her end of the umbrella, and George, with an exaggerated expression of rapture on his face, kissed the place where her hand had held it. The young lady tried to frown and look disgusted. Then for several moments neither spoke. At last Clara said, "I wanted to tell you how proud and glad I am of the things you have been doing. You are a good man, George, to take care of that poor dead boy the way you did."
"Why, you see I had a sort of fellow-feeling for him," muttered the printer. "I had just been frosted myself."
"And that Young People's Society business, it is just grand," went on Clara. "Only think, you have given more than all the church members even."
Udell grunted, "No danger of me losing on that offer. They'll never raise the rest."
"Oh yes we will. I'm chairman of the committee." And then she told him of the meeting, and how Uncle Bobbie had praised him.
Udell felt his heart thaw rapidly, and the two chatted away as though no chilly blast had ever come between them.
"And yet, Clara, with all your professed love for me, you won't allow me a single privilege of a lover, and I can have no hope of the future. It had better stop now."
"Very well, George; it can stop now if you like; but I never could have lived without talking it out with you and telling you how glad I am for your gift to the Society."