"What's the matter with the gent in the tall dicer and lavender kids who calls on you regularly every week, and takes you out to the theater and entertainments? Mr. Clarence Peck. He's clerk in a broker's office, with prospects of advancement, and expectations from two maiden aunts."
His sister blushed vividly, and looked a bit confused.
"Mr. Peck is merely a friend," she said.
"Well, he thinks a lot of you."
"How do you know?" said his sister, with another blush.
"He didn't tell me so, I admit, but actions speak louder even than his lavender kids."
"I wish you wouldn't make fun of his gloves. I think they are the proper thing for him to wear."
Dick chuckled.
"He seems to be rather bashful, though. If I visited a girl as long as he has been coming here to see you, I would propose and have it over with."
"Don't be too sure that you would. Mr. Peck is not bashful; he is only a little diffident. He is very clever, but I sometimes fear that he lets his light shine under a bushel."