“No, I don't, not so very,” said Charlotte.
“Oh, Charlotte, where did you ever see a handsomer man, unless it was papa or Robert?”
“I have seen much handsomer men,” declared Charlotte, firmly, as she carefully pinned her sister's veil.
“Well, I would like to know where? Not in this town?”
“Yes, in this town.”
“Who?”
“Mr. Anderson.”
“The grocer?”
“Yes,” said Charlotte, defiantly. The veil was pinned, and Ina turned and looked at her, a rosy vision behind a film of gray lace. “You look lovely,” said Charlotte, who had a soft pink in her cheeks.
“I think this hat is a beauty,” said Ina. “Wasn't it lucky that New Sanderson milliner was so very good, and did not object to giving credit? Why, Mr. Anderson is the grocer! That is the man you mean, isn't it, honey?”