"Tell him he got jest as good!" retorted Mr. Sim.
"Cousin Sam, Cousin Sim says you got it just as good!" said Mary. "Now, Mr. Parks, if you're a mind to carry the turkey out while I bring in the pies—if nobody'll have any more, that is to say!"
"Well!" said Calvin Parks, rising and lifting the huge platter; "if all had eat what I have, there'd be nothin' to carry out, that's all I have to say. After you, Miss Hands!"
He closed the pantry door cautiously after him.
"How do you think it's goin'?" he asked eagerly.
"Splendid!" cried Mary Sands under her breath. "It's goin' splendid! They've looked at each other much as four or five times, and twice they only just stopped in time or they'd have spoke to each other. I saw Cousin Sam catch his breath and fairly choke the words back. Keep right on as you are, Mr. Parks, and we'll have 'em talkin' in another hour, see if we don't!"
The pies—such pies!—had come and gone. With furtive blinks, Mr. Sam had unbuttoned the lower buttons of a black, Mr. Sim of a red waistcoat; they leaned back in their chairs, their sharp little features relaxed, and they stirred their coffee with the air of men at peace with the world.
Calvin Parks bent over his cup with an attentive look.
"Boys," he said pensively, "warn't this your Ma's cup?"
The twins started, and looked at the dark blue cup with gold on the handle.