Walter entered, and was shown into a small sitting-room, quite plainly furnished. The book was taken from him, and examined for a considerable length of time by the daughter, who, however, announced at the end that though she should like it very much, she couldn't afford to pay the price. As the appearance of the house bore out her assertion, Walter did not press the purchase, but was about to replace the book under his arm, when she said suddenly, "Wait a minute. There's Mrs. Thurman just coming in. Perhaps she'll buy one of your books."
Walter was of course perfectly willing to wait on the chance of a sale.
Mrs. Thurman was the wife of a trader in good circumstances, and disposed to spend liberally, according to her means. Walter was not obliged to recommend his book, for this was done by the spinster, who was disinterestedly bent on making a sale. So he sat quiet, a passive but interested auditor, while Miss Nancy Sprague extolled the book for him.
"It does seem like an excellent book," said Mrs. Thurman, looking at the pictures.
"Just the thing for your Delia," suggested Miss Nancy; "I am sure she would like it."
"That reminds me to-morrow is Delia's birthday."
"Then give her the book for a birthday present."
"I had intended to buy her something else. Still I am not sure but this would suit her quite as well."
"I am sure it would," responded Miss Nancy.