of us was properly inclined."
"I should think so," she said.
"And yet," he admitted slyly, "I should _like_ to marry--" To this
she did not answer.
"Shouldn't you?" he continued.
"When I meet the right man," she laughed.
"That's it," he said. "There, that's just it! And you _haven't_ met
him?" His voice seemed smiling with a sort of triumph, as if he had
caught her out.
"Well--once I thought I had--when I was engaged to Alexander."
"But you found you were mistaken?" he insisted.
"No. Mother was so ill at the time--"
"There's always something to consider," he said.
She kept on wondering what she should do if he wanted to kiss her.
The mere incongruity of such a desire on his part formed a problem.
Luckily, for this evening he formulated no desire, but left her in
the shop-door soon after nine, with the request:
"I shall see you in the week, shan't I?"
"I'm not sure. I can't promise now," she said hurriedly.
"Good-night."
What she felt chiefly about him was a decentralized perplexity, very
much akin to no feeling at all.
"Who do you think took me for a walk, Miss Pinnegar?" she said,
laughing, to her confidante.
"I can't imagine," replied Miss Pinnegar, eyeing her.
"You never would imagine," said Alvina. "Albert Witham."
"Albert Witham!" exclaimed Miss Pinnegar, standing quite motionless.
"It may well take your breath away," said Alvina.
"No, it's not that!" hurriedly expostulated Miss Pinnegar. "Well--!
Well, I declare!--" and then, on a new note: "Well, he's very
eligible, I think."
"Most eligible!" replied Alvina.
"Yes, he is," insisted Miss Pinnegar. "I think it's very good."
"What's very good?" asked Alvina.
Miss Pinnegar hesitated. She looked at Alvina. She reconsidered.
"Of course he's not the man I should have imagined for you, but--"
"You think he'll do?" said Alvina.
"Why not?" said Miss Pinnegar. "Why shouldn't he do--if you like
him."
"Ah--!" cried Alvina, sinking on the sofa with a laugh. "That's it."
"Of course you couldn't have anything to do with him if you don't
care for him," pronounced Miss Pinnegar.
Albert continued to hang around. He did not make any direct attack
for a few days. Suddenly one evening he appeared at the back door
with a bunch of white stocks in his hand. His face lit up with a
sudden, odd smile when she opened the door--a broad, pale-gleaming,
remarkable smile.
"Lottie wanted to know if you'd come to tea tomorrow," he said
straight out, looking at her with the pale light in his eyes, that
smiled palely right into her eyes, but did not see her at all. He
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