"I reckon that's so," Caleb admitted; "for somehow I kept wantin' to hear the sound of her voice just once more--just to see what there was about it that made it so different from other voices, so I kept makin' business excuses that I thought were pretty clever an' reasonable-like, an' she was always good-natured enough to take 'em as they were meant." "What else could she do?" asked Mary, with an appealing look. "The rules against personal acquaintances dropping into the store to chat were quite strict, and applied to heads of departments as well as to other employees. Caleb's plausible manner deceived no one, but he was so odd, at first, and so entertaining, that every one in authority in the store quickly learned to like him, and were glad to see him come in. They would make excuses to saunter near us, and listen to the conversation, and whenever he went out, some of them remained to tease me. They saw through him before I did, and made so much of what they saw that, in the course of time, I had to work hard to rally myself whenever I saw Caleb approaching." "She did it splendidly, too," said Caleb. "In a little while I got so that my eye could catch her the minute I found myself inside the store, no matter how many people were between us, yet I'm middlin' short, as you know, an' she isn't tall. She'd be talkin' business, as sober as a judge, with somebody, but by the time I got pretty nigh, her face would look like a lot o' Mrs. Somerton's pet flowers--red roses, an' white roses, an' a couple o' rich pansies between, an' around 'em all a great tangle o' gold thread to keep 'em from gettin' away." "Caleb!" exclaimed Mary. "Your friends want only facts." "I'm sure he's giving us nothing else," Grace said, looking admiringly at Mary, while Philip added:-- "He's doing it very nicely, too. Bravo, Caleb! Go on."