"Hello, Tim!" cried Mary. "And where is Edith?"
"Edith?" Tim exclaimed, stopping as if to collect the thoughts her
sudden taunting question had scattered. "I left her behind this time,
but when I come again you shall see her." Tim, with arms akimbo, stood
there laughing.
"We country girls, I understand, cannot compare with her," said Mary,
tilting her chin.
She had started up the stairs, and now paused, looking down on us. And
I looked up at her face showing out of the darkness in the half light,
and I laughed, wondering what Tim thought, wondering if he was blind,
or was this Edith really bewildering.
"Did I say that?" cried Tim. "Then I must have meant it when I said
it. To-night I have learned better, Mary, but you know I never saw you
standing that way before--on the stairs above me--kind of like an angel
with a halo----"
"Indeed!" retorted Mary; "but we women of Black Log deck ourselves out
in gaudy finery, Mr. Tim, I believe. We women of Black Log do not
inspire a man, like your Edith.
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