Mr. Snow established the bridge again, by bringing his fingers together,—whether to keep out the flattery that thus came like a subtle balm to his heart, or to keep in the self-complacency which had been engendered, was not apparent.
He smiled, looking benevolently out upon the group, and said: "Oh, you women are so hasty, so hasty, so hasty! I had not said that I would not interfere. Indeed, I had pretty much made up my mind to do so. But I wanted you in advance to see things as they air. It may be that something can be done, and it certainly will be a great satisfaction to me if I can be the humble instrument for the accomplishment of a reform."
"And you will go to the meeting? and you will speak?" said Miss Butterworth, eagerly.
"Yes!" and Mr. Snow looked straight into Miss Butterworth's tearful eyes, and smiled.
"The Lord add His blessing, and to His name be all the praise! Good-night!" said Miss Butterworth, rising and making for the door.
"Dear," said Mrs. Snow, springing and catching her by the arm, "don't you think you ought to put on something more? It's very chilly to-night."
"Not a rag. I'm hot. I believe I should roast if I had on a feather more."
"Wouldn't you like Mr. Snow to go home with you? He can go just as well as not," insisted Mrs. Snow.
"Certainly, just as well as not," repeated the elder Miss Snow, followed by the second with: "as well as not," and by the third with: "and be glad to do it."
"No—no—no—no"—to each. "I can get along better without him, and I don't mean to give him a chance to take back what he has said."