]
"I'm sure I should like to buy the book, Miss Daggett."
"You ain't th' only one," said the agent. "Any person of even the
most ordinary intelligence ought to own this work. Turning to page
four hundred and fifty-six, we read: 'Snipeley, Samuel Bangs: lawyer
ligislator _an'_ author; born eighteen hundred fifty-nine, in the
town of--'"
At this moment the door was pushed noiselessly open, and a tall,
spare woman of middle age stood upon the threshold bearing a tray in
her hands. On the tray were set forth silver tea things, flanked by
thin bread and butter and a generous pile of sponge cake.
"You must be tired and thirsty after your drive," said Lydia Orr
hospitably. "You may set the tray here, Martha."
The maid complied.
"Of course I must have that book, Miss Daggett," their hostess went
on. "You didn't mention the title, nor the price. Won't you have a
cup of tea, Mrs. Daggett?"
"That cup of tea looks real nice; but I'm afraid you've gone to a lot
of trouble and put yourself out," protested Mrs. Daggett, who had not
ventured to open her lips until then. What wonderful long words Lois
had used; and how convincing had been her manner. Mrs. Daggett had
resolved that "Lives of Famous People," in its best red leather
binding, should adorn her own parlor table in the near future, if she
could persuade Henry to consent.
"I think that book Lois is canvassing for is just lovely," she added
artfully, as she helped herself to cake. "I'm awful anxious to own
one; just think, I'd never even heard of Snipeley Samuel Bangs--"
Lois Daggett crowed with laughter.
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