“I’m going to do you the honour of sitting beside you, Mr. Campbell,” she said sweetly.
“It’s an honour I’ve done nothing whatever to merit,” he answered, without looking at her, and turned a page.
“The right retort,” she approved; “but you might have said it a little more cordially.”
“I don’t feel cordial.”
“But why not? What has happened? Yesterday you were so nice.”
“Ah, a good deal of water has run under the bridge since yesterday.”
“But still the river remains as full,” she told him, smiling, “and still the sky is as blue. The thermometer has even risen six degrees. Out-of-doors, to-day, I could feel the spring-time in the air. You, too, love the spring, don’t you? I know that from your books. And I wanted to tell you, I think your books perfectly lovely. I know them, most all.
