many times this evening. She is beautiful, and I am very fond of her; so you must forgive me for smiling at your speech" (insinuatingly).
"I am glad that I amuse you," he responded, with an air of offended dignity.
"I hope you are not too much flattered by the fact," said I,—bent now on provoking him to the utmost,—"because it takes very little to amuse me."
"So I see" (briefly).
"I had no idea that Englishmen were so easily annoyed," I continued mischievously. "I have always imagined them cold and impassive."
Mr. Thurber struggled for his ordinary composure, and almost succeeded in grasping it, as he replied,—
"You seem to have had some odd ideas about my countrymen. Did you never meet any Englishmen before?"
"I have met quantities of them; but I never knew any of them well,—except one," I added hesitatingly.
"What did you think of him?"
"Not much."
"Did you see him often? Was it long ago?" (with a touch of eagerness.)
"I saw him every day, and it was very long ago, for it was when I was a young girl."
"What was his name? Perhaps I know the family."
"I don't believe you do," said I carelessly, "unless he used to make shoes for you before he left England. He is an old cobbler, who lives in the little village where I spend my summers. I used to go and sit with him at his
