Maryllia laughed.
"Oh, I don't know anything about that!" she said—"I never met a paragraphist in my life that I know of. But Eva is beautiful—there is no denying it. And Margaret Bludlip Courtenay is called the youngest woman in the world!"
"She looks it!" answered Walden, with great heartiness. "I cannot imagine Time making any sort of mark upon her. Because—if you don't mind my saying so—she has really nothing for Time to write upon!"
His tone was eminently good-natured, and Maryllia glancing at his smiling face laughed gaily.
"You are very wicked, Mr. Walden," she said mirthfully—"In fact, you are a quiz, and you shouldn't be a quiz and a clergyman both together. Oh, by the way! Why did you stop reading the service when we all came in late to church that Sunday?"
He looked full at her.
"Precisely for that reason. Because you all came in late."
Maryllia peered timorously at him, with her pretty head on one side, like an enquiring bird.
"Do you think it was polite?"
Walden laughed.