The girl approached. When she saw the minister, she started, but not
as if with surprise; rather as if she had made ready to start. She
stood at the foot of the steps, glowing with blushes, but still not
confused. She smiled with friendly confidence. She was very pretty
and she wore a delicious gown, if one were not a woman, to observe
the lack of fashion and the faded streaks, and she carried a little
silk work-bag.
Wesley rose. He also blushed, and looked more confused than the girl.
"Good morning, Miss Dodge," he said. His hands twitched a little.
Fanny Dodge noted his confusion quite calmly. "Are you busy?" said
she.
"You are laughing at me, Miss Dodge. What on earth am I busy about?"
"Oh," said the girl. "Of course I have eyes, and I can see that you
are not writing; but I can't see your mind, or your thoughts. For all
I know, they may be simply grinding out a sermon, and today is
Saturday. I don't want to break up the meeting." She laughed.
"Come on up here," said Wesley with camaraderie. "You know I am not
doing a blessed thing. I can finish my sermon in an hour after
dinner. Come on up. The breeze is heavenly. What have you got in that
bag?"
"I," stated Fanny Dodge, mounting the steps, "have my work in my bag.
I am embroidering a center-piece which is to be sold for at least
twice its value--for I can't embroider worth a cent--at the fair."
She sat down beside him, and fished out of the bag a square of white
linen and some colored silks.
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