Two days afterward, Ann Eliza noticed that Evelina, beforethey sat down to supper, pinned a crimson bow under her collar; andwhen the meal was finished the younger sister, who seldom concernedherself with the clearing of the table, set about with nervoushaste to help Ann Eliza in the removal of the dishes.

　　"I hate to see food mussing about," she grumbled. "Ain't ithateful having to do everything in one room?""Oh, Evelina, I've always thought we was so comfortable," AnnEliza protested.

　　"Well, so we are, comfortable enough; but I don't supposethere's any harm in my saying I wisht we had a parlour, is there?

　　Anyway, we might manage to buy a screen to hide the bed."Ann Eliza coloured. There was something vaguely embarrassingin Evelina's suggestion.

　　"I always think if we ask for more what we have may be takenfrom us," she ventured.

　　"Well, whoever took it wouldn't get much," Evelina retortedwith a laugh as she swept up the table-cloth.

　　A few moments later the back room was in its usual flawlessorder and the two sisters had seated themselves near the lamp. AnnEliza had taken up her sewing, and Evelina was preparing to makeartificial flowers. The sisters usually relegated thismore delicate business to the long leisure of the summer months;but to-night Evelina had brought out the box which lay all winterunder the bed, and spread before her a bright array of muslinpetals, yellow stamens and green corollas, and a tray of littleimplements curiously suggestive of the dental art. Ann Eliza madeno remark on this unusual proceeding; perhaps she guessed why, forthat evening her sister had chosen a graceful task.

　　Presently a knock on the outer door made them look up; butEvelina, the first on her feet, said promptly: "Sit still. I'llsee who it is."Ann Eliza was glad to sit still: the baby's petticoat that shewas stitching shook in her fingers.

　　"Sister, here's Mr. Ramy come to look at the clock," saidEvelina, a moment later, in the high drawl she cultivated beforestrangers; and a shortish man with a pale bearded face and upturnedcoat-collar came stiffly into the room.

　　Ann Eliza let her work fall as she stood up. "You're verywelcome, I'm sure, Mr. Ramy. It's real kind of you to call.""Nod ad all, ma'am." A tendency to illustrate Grimm's law inthe interchange of his consonants betrayed the clockmaker'snationality, but he was evidently used to speaking English, or atleast the particular branch of the vernacular with which the Bunnersisters were familiar. "I don't like to led any clock go out of mystore without being sure it gives satisfaction," he added.

　　"Oh--but we were satisfied," Ann Eliza assured him.

　　"But I wasn't, you see, ma'am," said Mr. Ramy looking slowlyabout the room, "nor I won't be, not till I see that clock's goingall right.""May I assist you off with your coat, Mr. Ramy?" Evelinainterposed. She could never trust Ann Eliza to remember theseopening ceremonies.

　　"Thank you, ma'am," he replied, and taking his thread-bareover-coat and shabby hat she laid them on a chair with the gestureshe imagined the lady with the puffed sleeves might make use of onsimilar occasions. Ann Eliza's social sense was roused, and shefelt that the next act of hospitality must be hers. "Won't yousuit yourself to a seat?" she suggested. "My sister will reachdown the clock; but I'm sure she's all right again. She's wentbeautiful ever since you fixed her.""Dat's good," said Mr. Ramy. His lips parted in a smile whichshowed a row of yellowish teeth with one or two gaps in it; but inspite of this disclosure Ann Eliza thought his smile extremelypleasant: there was something wistful and conciliating in it whichagreed with the pathos of his sunken cheeks and prominent eyes. Ashe took the lamp, the light fell on his bulging forehead and wideskull thinly covered with grayish hair. His hands were pale andbroad, with knotty joints and square finger-tips rimmed with grime;but his touch was as light as a woman's.

　　"Well, ladies, dat clock's all right," he pronounced.

　　"I'm sure we're very much obliged to you," said Evelina,throwing a glance at her sister.

　　"Oh," Ann Eliza murmured, involuntarily answering theadmonition. She selected a key from the bunch that hung at herwaist with her cutting-out scissors, and fitting it into the lockof the cupboard, brought out the cherry brandy and three old-fashioned glasses engraved with vine-wreaths.

　　"It's a very cold night," she said, "and maybe you'd like asip of this cordial. It was made a great while ago by ourgrandmother.""It looks fine," said Mr. Ramy bowing, and Ann Eliza filledthe glasses. In her own and Evelina's she poured only a few drops,but she filled their guest's to the brim. "My sister and I seldomtake wine," she explained.

　　With another bow, which included both his hostesses, Mr. Ramydrank off the cherry brandy and pronounced it excellent.

　　Evelina meanwhile, with an assumption of industry intended toput their guest at ease, had taken up her instruments and wastwisting a rose-petal into shape.

　　"You make artificial flowers, I see, ma'am," said Mr. Ramywith interest. "It's very pretty work. I had a lady-vriend inShermany dat used to make flowers." He put out a square finger-tipto touch the petal.

　　Evelina blushed a little. "You left Germany long ago, Isuppose?""Dear me yes, a goot while ago. I was only ninedeen when Icome to the States."After this the conversation dragged on intermittently till Mr.

　　Ramy, peering about the room with the short-sighted glance of hisrace, said with an air of interest: "You're pleasantly fixed here;it looks real cosy." The note of wistfulness in his voice wasobscurely moving to Ann Eliza.

　　"Oh, we live very plainly," said Evelina, with an affectationof grandeur deeply impressive to her sister. "We have very simpletastes.""You look real comfortable, anyhow," said Mr. Ramy. Hisbulging eyes seemed to muster the details of the scene with agentle envy. "I wisht I had as good a store; but I guess no blaceseems home-like when you're always alone in it."For some minutes longer the conversation moved on at thisdesultory pace, and then Mr. Ramy, who had been obviously nervinghimself for the difficult act of departure, took his leave with anabruptness which would have startled anyone used to the subtlergradations of intercourse. But to Ann Eliza and her sister therewas nothing surprising in his abrupt retreat. The long-drawnagonies of preparing to leave, and the subsequent dumb plungethrough the door, were so usual in their circle that they wouldhave been as much embarrassed as Mr. Ramy if he had tried to putany fluency into his adieux.

　　After he had left both sisters remained silent for a while;then Evelina, laying aside her unfinished flower, said: "I'll goand lock up."