For the rest of that day Miss Ellen Baily moved and looked as one in a dream. Her brother, however, did not seem to notice her absent-mindedness. Indeed, he was as talkative as she was silent.
"Sister," he said, as they sat at tea, "I need a new hat. One with a blue band about it might be—ah—becoming."
"Blue is a sweet color," said Miss Ellen, vaguely.
"Mrs. Smily remarked to me that before her affliction made it improper, she was addicted to the color of blue."
"Was she?" Ellen said, absently.
"Don't you think," David said, after a pause, "that my coat is somewhat shabby? You bought it, you may remember, the winter of the long frost."
"Is it?" Miss Ellen said.
"Yes; and the style is obsolete, I think. Not that I am a creature of fashion, but I do not like to be conspicuous in dress."
"You are not that, dear David," Miss Ellen protested. "On Sunday I often think nobody looks as handsome as you."
David blushed. "You are partial, Ellen."