"
"I made biscuits once and forgot the flour," Jim declared
proudly.
Camilla shook her head.
"And, Camilla," Jim said gravely, "I am really very
irresponsible, you know Nellie Slater--she is a pretty
girl, isn't she?"
"A very pretty girl," Camilla agreed.
"About your size--fluffy hair--"
"Wavy, Jim," Camilla corrected.
"Hers is fluffy, yours is wavy," Jim said firmly--"lovely
dark eyes--well, she was standing by the window, just
before the lamps were lighted, and I really am very
absent-minded you know--I don't know how it happened that
I mistook her for you."
Camilla reached out her hand.
He seized it eagerly.
"Jim--I am convinced," she said softly.
Fifteen minutes afterwards Camilla said:
"I cannot tell her, Jim, I really cannot. I don't how
know to begin to tell her."
"Why do you need to tell her?" Jim asked. "Hasn't the
lady eyes and understanding? What does she think I come
for?"
"She doesn't know you come. She sees somebody here, but
she thinks it's the grocery-boy waiting until I empty
his basket."
"Indeed," Jim said a little stiffly, "which one, I wonder."
"Don't you remember the night she said to me 'And what
did you say this young man's name is, Camilla'--no, no,
Jim, she hasn't noticed you at all."
Jim was silent a moment.
"Well now," he said at last, "she seemed to be taking
notice that morning I came in without any very good
excuse, and she said 'How does it happen that you are
not harvesting this beautiful day, Mr.
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