“Oh, I chanced to get an order which he was kind enough to think the greatest stroke of business that any firm has made this season. So he asked me my price, and while I was wondering what to say he made me the offer.”
“Just like his dear, noble heart,” said Lucia.
“Yes,” said Phil, rising, and pacing to and fro in front of the piano, and fixing his eyes on the floor; “and all the nobler it seemed on account of the sordid, grasping way in which I took it. I wasn’t satisfied with that, but wanted more. I hope he’ll never have cause to think unkindly of me for it.”
“More?” said Lucia, wonderingly, and somewhat soberly. “What more could you want than to be a prominent merchant?”
“As we say in the country, guess,” said Phil, approaching the piano-stool and opening his arms.
Lucia guessed.
What a deal he had to say to her, while still they stood there! He knew it was not polite to keep a lady standing, but while he was supporting her so strongly, though tenderly, it did not seem that Lucia would weary of the position; nor did she. And what a lot of questions each asked and answered!—questions and answers that would seem as silly to any one else as they were interesting to those they concerned. Perhaps there came occasional moments when neither was speaking, but during these Phil could look down at the golden tangle just about at the level of his lips, and think how much more precious it was than all the gold that railroad-iron could be changed into by the alchemy of endeavor.
How long they might have stood there, if undisturbed, they never knew, for they were so heedless of all that might be going on about them that they did not note the entrance of Margie, who was returning from an interview with the laundress in the basement. That young lady was quick to discern the situation, and was about to depart quietly and with celerity; but, acting upon the promptings of her second thoughts, she returned, threw her arms around the couple, and exclaimed,—
“Oh, isn’t this splendid!”
There was a rapid separation of the trio, and then Margie attempted to whirl Lucia about the room in a waltz, that being the younger sister’s most natural method of expressing joy. But, somehow, Lucia did not feel like waltzing; on the contrary, she kissed her sister several times, hid her own face a great deal, and finally made a great effort to be calm as she pointed at Phil and said, with a sprightly toss of her head,—