ds or old documents." He
rubbed his hands softly and turned his eyes with a glance meant to be
tender towards the place where her chair stood; if he had been a cat,
he would have purred the while.

Mrs. Kinloch now, for the first time, observed the wig, the unusual
look of tidiness, and, above all, the flower in his hand; she also saw
the crucified smile that followed his last remark. "The ridiculous old
fool!" thought she,--"what can he mean?" But to him she translated
it,--

"What is the more agreeable topic?"

"Really, you attack me like a lawyer. Don't you know, my dear Madam,
how it confuses one to be sharply interrogated?"

"It would be something novel to see you confused, Squire Clamp."

"Pray, don't banter, Mrs. Kinloch. I hoped to find you in a more
complaisant humor. There are topics which cannot be discussed with the
square precision of legal rules,--thoughts that require sympathy
before they can be expressed." And he dropped his eyes with a
ludicrous sigh.

"Oh, I appreciate your tender susceptibilities. Please consider me as
asking the question again in the most engaging manner."

His new wig was becoming uncomfortable, and he fidgeted in his chair,
twirling the luckless blossom.

"Why, Mrs. Kinloch, the long regard I entertained for your late
lamented husband,--ah, I mean my regard for you,--ah, my lonely
domicil,--ah, since the decease of my--my sainted wife,--ah, and since
the Scripture says it is not good for man to live alone,--ah, your
charming qualities and many virtues,--not that your fortune,--ah,--I
mean to say, that, though not rich, I am not grasping,--and the
cottage where you lived would be a palace,--ah, for me, if not
unworthy,--ah, no desire to unduly shorten the period of
mourning,--ah, but life is short and uncertain"----

There was a dead silence. His mouth was vainly working, and his
expression confused and despairing. The flower had wilted in his moist
hand. Little streams of perspiration trickled down his face, to be
mopped up by his bandanna. Such was the ordeal of talking hollow
sentiment to a cool and self-possessed woman. She enjoyed the
exhibition for a time,--as what woman would not? But the waves of her
trouble rushed back upon her, and the spirit of mischief and coquetry
was overwhelmed. So she answered,--

"You are pleased to be polite,--perhaps gallant. You must excuse me
from taking part in such conversation to-day, however little is meant
by it,--and the less