Evelina every opportunity that came their way. "She had the
Sunday-school teacher too," Ann Eliza murmured to herself; but she
was well-trained in the arts of renunciation, and after a scarcely
perceptible pause she plunged into a detailed description of the
dress-maker's "turn."

Evelina, when her curiosity was roused, was an insatiable
questioner, and it was supper-time before she had come to the end
of her enquiries about Miss Mellins; but when the two sisters had
seated themselves at their evening meal Ann Eliza at last found a
chance to say: "So she on'y had a speck of dust in her."

Evelina understood at once that the reference was not to Miss
Mellins. "Yes--at least he thinks so," she answered, helping
herself as a matter of course to the first cup of tea.

"On'y to think!" murmured Ann Eliza.

"But he isn't SURE," Evelina continued, absently
pushing the teapot toward her sister. "It may be something wrong
with the--I forget what he called it. Anyhow, he said he'd call
round and see, day after to-morrow, after supper."

"Who said?" gasped Ann Eliza.

"Why, Mr. Ramy, of course. I think he's real nice, Ann Eliza.
And I don't believe he's forty; but he DOES look sick. I
guess he's pretty lonesome, all by himself in that store. He as
much as told me so, and somehow"--Evelina paused and bridled--"I
kinder thought that maybe his saying he'd call round about the