Then he retired to his own room. When he reappeared he wore the waistcoat. His old black frock-coat, shiny on the shoulders and with very full skirts, hung so loose in front that the flowered velvet beneath was not conspicuous; but Mr. David felt its moral support when, at least ten minutes before the proper time, he started for Mrs. Barkley's. His hostess, putting on her best cap before her mirror, glanced down from her window as he came up the path. "Ellen ought not to have sent him so early," she said, with some irritation. "Emily!" she called, in her deep voice, "just go to the front door and tell Mr. Baily to go home. I'm not ready for him. Or he can sit in the parlor and wait if he wants to. But he can't talk to me." Emily, a mournful, elderly person, sought, out of regard for her own feelings, to soften her mistress's message; but David instantly retreated to walk up and down the street, keeping his eye on Mrs. Barkley's house, so that he could time his return by the arrival of Mr. Spangler. "He'll come at the right hour, I presume," he said to himself. Just then he saw Mrs. Smily stepping delicately down the street, her head on one side, and a soft, unchanging smile on her lips. As they met she minced a little in her step, and said: "Dear me! I'm afraid I've made a mistake. I'm looking for Mrs. Barkley's residence." "Mrs. Barkley resides here," said Mr. David, elegantly. She looked up into his sad, dark eyes with a flurried air. "Dear me," she said, "I fear I am late." "Oh, not _late_," said poor David. "Perhaps we might walk up and down for a minute longer?" Mrs. Smily, astonished but flattered, tossed her head, and said, Well, she didn't know about _that_! But, all the same, she turned, and they walked as far as the post-office. "I'm afraid you are very attentive to the ladies," Mrs. Smily said, coquettishly, when David had introduced himself; and David, who had never heard a flirtatious word (unless from Maria), felt a sudden thrill and a desire to reply in kind. But from lack of experience he could think of nothing but the truth. He had been too early, he said, and had come out to wait for Mr. Spangler--"and you, ma'am," he added, in a polite after-thought. But his hurried emphasis made Mrs. Smily simper more than ever. She shook her finger at him and said: "Come, come, sir!" And David's head swam. [Illustration: "DAVID'S HEAD SWAM"] At that moment Mr. Spangler, buttoned to his chin in a black waistcoat, came solemnly along, and, with his protection, David felt he could face Mrs. Barkley.