Burleigh's dining-room, and in
circumstances that to me were often so very dismal."
"Please remember that I am not the same person. I will esteem it
a great favor if you will leave the man you saw at that time in
the limbo of the past--the farther off the better."
"You were rather distant then," Ida remarked with a piquant smile.
"But am I now? Answer me that," he said so eagerly that she was
again mentally enraged at her tell-tale color, and she said hastily:
"But where am I to find the ambrosia and nectar that you will expect
this evening?"
"Any market can furnish the crude materials. It is the touch of
the hostess that transmutes them."
"Alas," said Ida, "I never learned how to cook. If I should prepare
your dinner, you would have an awful mood to-morrow, and probably
send for the doctor."
"I would need a nurse more than a doctor."
"I know of an ancient woman--a perfect Mrs. Harris," said Ida,
gleefully.
"Wouldn't you come and see me if I were very ill?"
"I might call at the door and ask how you were," she replied,
hesitatingly.
"Now, Miss Ida, the undertaker would do as much as that."
"Our motives might differ just a little," she said, dropping her
eyes.
Pages:
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608
609
610
611
612
613
614
615
616
617
618
619
620
621
622
623
624
625