“Oh indeed, Mr. Barker! And may I ask where Miss Carver is? She merried and living in Wyoming Territory too?”
“No,” said Lemuel quietly. “She's not married. She's in Boston.”
“Indeed! Then it was her I see in the Garden to-day, S'tira! She b'en back long, Mr. Barker?”
“About a month, I think,” said Lemuel.
“Quite a spell! You seen her, Mr. Barker?”
“Yes, quite often.”
“I want to know! She still paintin' Roman boys, Mr. Barker? Didn't seem to make any great out at it last winter! But practice makes perfect, they say. I s'pose you seen her in the Garden, too?”
“I usually see her at home,” said Lemuel. “You probably receive your friends on the benches in the Garden, but young ladies prefer to have them call at their residences.” He astonished himself by this brutality, he who was all gentleness with Miss Carver.
“Very well, Mr. Barker! That's all right. That's all I wanted to know. Never mind about where I meet my friends. Wherever it is, they're gentlemen; and they ain't generally goin' with three or four girls 't the same time.”
“No, one like you would be enough,” retorted Lemuel.