"I'm afraid you misjudge us both," said Eugenia demurely. "If you knew us better, you'd like us better. I'm sure of that."
"Humph!" grunted Silas. Then looking hard at the girl, he bluntly asked, "Is there anything between you and Paul?"
"A good many miles, sir, just now," she answered, making one of those retorts that Paul thought so fine.
"H-m-m; yes, you are right, a good many miles. Well, there can't be too many."
"I think you are cruel, sir. Is Paul not to come home any more? Paul is a very good friend of mine, and I could wish him well wherever he might be; but how would you feel, sir, if he were never to return?"
"Well, I must go," said Silas somewhat bluntly. When Beauty has a glib tongue, abler men than Silas find themselves without weapons to cope with it.
"Shall I tell mother that you have given your promise to call soon?" Eugenia asked.
"Now, I hope you are not making fun of me," cried Silas with some irritation.
"How could that be, sir? Don't you think it would be extremely pert in a young girl to make fun of a gentleman old enough to be her father?"
Silas winced at the comparison. "Well, I have seen some very pert ones," he insisted, and with that he bade her good-day with a very ill grace, and went on about his business, of which he had a good deal of one kind and another.