Eugene looked at him. His appearance was quite changed. He was now dressed in a suit of dark brown clothes, and he wore a red necktie, and had a white flower in his buttonhole.
“This boy is not like other boys,” said Mrs. Hardy calmly; “he is a gentleman.”
“So you like him,” said the sergeant teasingly. “A pity it is that he can’t like you.”
“Why can’t he like me?” said Mrs. Hardy, sitting down behind the chocolate and milk pitchers, and motioning Eugene to sit beside her.
“Because you are two things that he doesn’t care for.”
“What are they?”
“You are a woman and a former school-teacher.”
“Don’t you like women?” asked Mrs. Hardy of Eugene.
“Madam,” he said gallantly, “the world would be a dreary place without your charming sex.”
“And school-teachers?”