“I see you agree with me, that politeness is quite a matter of intention,” said Christie, “and not of mere fashion and rules.  Now, for instance,” she continued, with a dazzling smile, “I suppose, according to the rules, I ought to give you a note to Mr. Munroe, accepting his offer.  That is all that is required; but it seems so much nicer, don’t you think, to tell it to you for him, and have the pleasure of your company and a little chat at the same time.”

“That’s it, that’s just it, Miss Carr; you’ve hit it in the centre this time,” said Whiskey Dick, now quite convinced that his attitude was not intended for eloquence, and shifting back to his own seat, hat and all; “that’s tantamount to what I said to the boys just now.  ’You want an excuse,’ sez I, ‘for not goin’ out with the young ladies.  So, accorden’ to rules, you writes a letter allowin’ buzziness and that sorter thing detains you.  But wot’s the facts?  You’re a gentleman, and as gentlemen you and George comes to the opinion that you’re rather playin’ it for all it’s worth in this yer house, you know—­comin’ here night and day, off and on, reg’lar sociable and fam’ly like, and makin’ people talk about things they ain’t any call to talk about, and, what’s a darned sight more, you fellows ain’t got any right yet to allow ’em to talk about, d’ye see?” he paused, out of breath.

It was Miss Christie’s turn to move about.  In changing her seat to the piano-stool, so as to be nearer her visitor, she brushed down some loose music, which Whiskey Dick hastened to pick up.

“Pray don’t mind it,” she said, “pray don’t, really—­let it be—­” But Whiskey Dick, feeling himself on safe ground in this attention, persisted to the bitter end of a disintegrated and well-worn “Travatore.”  “So that is what Mr. Munroe said,” she remarked quietly.

“Not just then, in course, but it’s what’s bin on his mind and in his talk for days off and on,” returned Dick, with a knowing smile and a nod of mysterious confidence.  “Bless your soul, Miss Carr, folks like you and me don’t need to have them things explained.  That’s what I said to him, sez I.  ’Don’t send no note, but just go up there and hev it out fair and square, and say what you do mean.’  But they would hev the note, and I kalkilated to bring it.  But when I set my eyes on you, and heard you express yourself as you did just now, I sez to myself, sez I, ’Dick, yer’s a young lady, and a fash’nable lady at that, ez don’t go foolin’ round on rules and etiketts’—­excuse my freedom, Miss Carr—­’and you and her, sez I, ’kin just discuss this yer matter in a sociable, off-hand, fash’nable way.’  They’re a good lot o’ boys, Miss Carr, a square lot—­white men all of ’em; but they’re a little soft and green, may be, from livin’ in these yer pine woods along o’ the other sap.  They just worship the ground you and your sister tread on—­certain! of course! of course!” he added hurriedly, recognizing Christie’s half-conscious,