"Never. I never did," said Rotha. "The people who come here on business, don't know the least bit how to behave; and the people at dear old Medwayville did not. O they were kind and good as they could be, some of them; but mother, they could not make a bow to save their lives, and they would stand and sit all sorts of ways; and they wouldn't know when they had done talking, nor how to do anything nicely." "Perhaps this man was stiff," said Mrs. Carpenter amused. "He was not stiff in the least; but mother, what is a gentleman?" "I do not know how to tell you, Rotha. Your description sounds very much like one." A day or two after, Mr. Digby came again, and had an interview with Mrs. Carpenter. This time he paid no attention to Rotha, and I think the little girl was somewhat disappointed. The next day he came again and brought with him the bundle of shirts. He inquired now very kindly into Mrs. Carpenter's state of health, and offered to send his own physician to see her. But she refused; and the manner of her refusal persuaded Mr. Digby that she was aware of her own condition and believed no medicine would be of avail. He was much of the same opinion himself; and indeed was inclined to suspect that there was more need of good food than of drugs in this case. More difficult at the same time to administer. A few days passed, and Mr. Digby again came. He found Mrs. Carpenter steady at her work, but looking very worn and pale. Rotha was just putting on the small tea kettle. Mr. Digby sat down and made kind inquiries. The answers were with the sweet patient composure which he saw was habitual with Mrs. Carpenter. "How is your appetite?" he asked. "I suppose I am not enough in the open air and stirring about, to have it very good." "Have you much strength for 'stirring about'?" "Not much." "People cannot have strength without eating. Rotha, what time do you give your mother her dinner?" "Now," said Rotha. "I put the kettle on just as you came in." "I saw you did. But what is the connection, may I ask, between dinner and the tea kettle?" "Rotha makes me a cup of tea," said Mrs. Carpenter smiling. "I can hardly get along without that." "Ah!--Mrs. Carpenter, I have had a busy morning and am--which I am sorry you are not--_hungry_. May I take a cup of tea with you?" "Certainly!--I should be very glad. Rotha, set a cup for Mr. Digby, dear. But tea is not much to a hungry man," she went on; "and I am afraid there is little in the house but bread and butter." "That will do capitally. If you'll furnish the bread and butter, I will see what I can get for my part. If you'll excuse the liberty, Mrs. Carpenter?" Mrs. Carpenter would excuse, I think, whatever he might take a fancy to do. She had seen him now several times, and he had quite won her heart. "Mother," said Rotha, as soon as their visiter had gone out, "what is he going to do?" "I do not know. Get something for dinner, he said."