Rhoda Jane was snuffing the candles. Hastily laying down her snuffers, she introduced the young men to Mildred, and dexterously managed to seat Ransquattle on the farther side of the room, leaving the field clear for her brother; for an empty chair stood invitingly at Miss Keith's side.
Gotobed took it, and, almost wondering at his own audacity, addressed his divinity with a remark upon the weather—that never-failing resource when all other topics elude us.
She answered with gracious sweetness,
"Yes it has been a lovely day, Mr. Lightcap."
What should he say next.
"I—I guess you never sewed carpet rags afore?"
"Is it my awkwardness at the business that makes you think so?" she returned, with a quizzical look and smile, as she lifted her fine eyes to his face.
"No, no, no sirree! ma'am, I mean," he stammered growing red and hot; "you do it beautiful!"
"Let me give you some work," she said, taking pity on his embarrassment; "will you thread this needle for me?"