Meanwhile the flirtation between James Cromwell and Clara Manton continued. The young lady was always gracious, and so far as her manner went, might readily be supposed to have formed a decided inclination for her admirer, for such the druggist had now become. She had a certain dash and liveliness of manner which fascinated him, and he felt flattered in no slight degree that such a young lady should have singled him out as her favorite.
Desirous of appearing to the best advantage, he ordered a new suit from the village tailor without regard to expense, but it was beyond the power of any garments, however costly or showy, to set off the peculiar appearance of Cromwell, or make him look well. But Miss Manton smiled sweetly upon him, and he felt himself to be in paradise.
Occasionally the young lady went into his shop on some ostensible errand, and tarried to have a chat. James Cromwell's heart fluttered with delight whenever he saw her face at the door, and during her stay he could attend to nothing else.
One evening there was to be a concert in the village.
James Cromwell brought home tickets, and said diffidently, "Miss Manton, will you do me the favor to accompany me to the concert this evening?"
"Thank you, Mr. Cromwell," she answered, smiling graciously, "I will accept with pleasure. I was wishing to go, but papa does not feel very well to-day, so I had made up my mind that I must pass my time at home. At what hour does the concert commence?"
"At half-past seven."
"Will it be time if I am ready at quarter past?"
"Quite so."