"Better than they will, perhaps—as merit is sometimes modest."
"I assure you I would happily yield the duty into your hands—who would do it so much better—but I suppose you would say as somebody else—'Let my friend tell my tale.'—Who is that?" said the doctor slowly and softly,—"like the riding pole of a fence—as little to spare—and as rigid—isn't he?—and as long! Don't I remember him?"
"You ought—that is Mr. Simlins."
"Yes"—said the doctor musingly—"I remember him! I incurred his displeasure once, in some boyish way, and if I recollect he is a man that pays his debts. And that unfortunate—next—looks like the perspective of a woman."
But this lady Mr. Linden did not know. She was little, in form and feature, and had besides a certain pinched-in look of diminutiveness—that seemed to belong to mind as well as body, temper, and life—and had procured her the doctor's peculiar term of description.
"The next thing is," said Dr. Harrison, as his eye slowly roved over the assembled and assembling people—"who is to give the favours? My sister of course does not wish to be forward in the business and I don't—and you don't. _I _say, the prettiest girl here."
"I think the hands that prepared the favours should dispense them," said Mr. Linden.
"But she won't do it—and ladies have sometimes the power of saying no—they're generally persuadable!—Who's that?" said the doctor with a change of tone, touching Mr. Linden's arm,—"the one in white with a red bouquet de corsage—she's charming! She's the one!"
"That is Miss Derrick."
"She'll do,"—said the doctor softly to his companion, as Faith paused for a quick greeting of the Judge and then passed on out of sight;—"she's charming—Do you suppose she knew what she was about when she put those red leaves and roses together? I didn't know there was that kind of thing in Pattaquasset."