“Lizzie, he is just one of the best fellows that ever lived!” cried Frank. “Isn’t it a pity he is only a book-binder after all?”
“I don’t know as that sets him back in my estimation one bit,” said Lizzie. “He is handsome, manly, and well-bred.”
Frank looked at his hitherto aristocratic sister with eyes of open wonder. What he would have said had not Mr. W—— come in that moment with Hattie, we do not know, for his lips were opened to utter a reply when the book-binder and his fair employee entered the office.
Then Frank had no eyes but for the latter, no thought, for the moment, of any one else.
“Dear Miss Hattie!” was all that Lizzie said, as she ran up to the poor bindery-girl, threw her arms around her neck, and kissed her again and again.
Frank would have given his team of fast horses, anything he had in the world, if he could have used those very words and given the same salute, more especially if he could have got the return his sister did.
But he had to content himself by shaking her hand, which he pressed quite warmly, as he said:
“I am glad to see you looking so well to-day, Miss Hattie, after the fright our aunt gave you last night.”
“Thank you!” said Hattie, kindly.
But Frank noted, with some chagrin, that she did not return the pressure of his hand.