Walter again mounted the stairs with something of his old buoyancy, and Annie followed, looking curiously after him. It was not in human nature to be indifferent to that most skilful flattery which can be addressed to woman--the recognition of her cleverness, and the enhancing of it by adroit and suggestive questions--and yet all his manner was tinged by a certain insincere gallantry, rather than by a manly, honest respect. She vaguely felt this, though she could not distinctly point it out. He puzzled her. What did he mean, and at what was he aiming? CHAPTER XI A DRINKING-SONG AT A PRAYER-MEETING Having failed in his attempt to induce Annie to remain at home, Gregory resolved that the prayer-meeting should not be one of quiet devotion. Mr. Walton made him, as an invalid, take the back seat with Annie, while he sat with the driver, and Gregory, after a faint show of resistance, gladly complied. "It's chilly. Won't you give me half of your shawl?" he said to her. "You may have it all," she replied, about to take it off. "No, I'll freeze first. Do the brethren and sisters sit together?" "No," she answered, laughing, "we have got in the queer way of dividing the room between us, and the few men who attend sit on one side and we on the other." "Oh, it's almost a female prayer-meeting then. Do the sisters pray?" "Mr. Gregory, you are not a stranger here that you need pretend to such ignorance. I think the meeting is conducted very much as when you were a boy." "With this most interesting difference, that you will be there and will sing, I hope. Miss Walton, where did you learn to sing?" "Mainly at home." "I should think so. Your voice is as unlike that of a public singer as you are unlike the singer herself." "It must seem very tame to you." "It seems very different. We have an artificial-flower department in our store. There is no lack of color and form there, I assure you, but after all I would prefer your rose garden in June." "But you would probably prefer your artificial-flower department the rest of the year," said Annie, laughing. "Why so?" "Our roses are annuals and are only prosaic briers after their bloom." "Imagine them hybrid perpetuals and monthlies and you have my meaning. But your resemblance to a rose extends even to its thorns. Your words are a little sharp sometimes." "In the thorns the resemblance begins and ends, Mr. Gregory. I assure you I am a veritable Scotch brier. But here we are at our destination. I wonder if you will see many old, remembered faces." "I shall be content in seeing yours," he replied in a low tone, pressing her hand as he assisted her to alight. If he could have seen the expression of her face in the darkness it would have satisfied him that she did not receive that style of compliment like many of the belles of his acquaintance, who would take the small change of flattery with the smiling complacency of a public door-keeper.