“Mr. Bangs,” she said, slowly, “has some one been tellin' you that I needed money and are you makin' me this offer out of—well, out of charity?”
Galusha jumped violently. He turned quite pale.
“Oh, dear, dear, dear!” he cried, in a great agitation. “Oh, dear me, dear me! No, INDEED, Miss Phipps! I am VERY sorry you should so misunderstand me. I—I—Of course I know nothing of your money affairs, nor should I presume to—to—Oh, I—I—Oh, dear!”
His distress was so keen that she was obliged to recognize it.
“All right, all right, Mr. Bangs,” she said. “It wasn't charity, I can see that. But what was it? Do I understand you to say that you like—actually like this lonesome place well enough to want to stay here all WINTER?”
“Yes—ah—yes. And it doesn't seem lonesome to me.”
“Doesn't it? Well, wait a little while.... And you really mean you want to keep on boardin' here—with me, with us?”
“Yes, if—if you will be so very kind as to permit me to do so. If you will be so good.”
“Good! To what? My soul and body!”
“No—ah—good to mine,” said Galusha.