Not till an hour after supper, when the others were bending over the corn-popper, did he have the chance to whisper to her:
"Don't trust Shallard! Pretends to be a friend of mine—couldn't trust him with a plugged nickel! Got to tell you about him. Got to! Listen! Slip down after the others go up t' bed. I'll be down here. Must!"
"Oh, I can't! Cousin Adeline Baldwin is sleeping with me."
"Well! Pretend to get ready to go to bed—start and do your hair or something—and then come down to see if the fire is all right. Will you?"
"Maybe."
"You must! Please! Dear!"
"Maybe. But I can't stay but just a second."
Most virtuously, most ministerially: "Oh, of course."
They all sat, after supper, in the sitting-room. The Bainses prided themselves on having advanced so far socially that they did not spend their evenings in the kitchen-dining-room—always. The sitting-room had the homeliness of a New England farm-house, with hectically striped rag carpet, an amazing patent rocker with Corinthian knobs and brass dragon's feet, crayon enlargements, a table piled with Farm and Fireside and Modern Priscilla, and the enormous volume of pictures of the Chicago World's Fair. There was no fireplace, but the stove was a cheery monster of nickel and mica, with a jolly brass crown more golden than gold, and around the glaring belly a chain of glass sapphires, glass emeralds, and hot glass rubies.
Beside the stove's gorgeous cheerfulness, Elmer turned on his spiritual faucet and worked at being charming.
"Now don't you folks dare say one word about church affairs this evening! I'm not going to be a preacher—I'm just going to be a youngster and kick up my heels in the pasture, after that lovely supper, and I declare to goodness if I didn't know she was a strict Mother in Zion, I'd make Mother Bains dance with me—bet she could shake as pretty a pair of heels as any of these art dancers in the theater!"
And encircling that squashy and billowing waist, he thrice whirled her round, while she blushed, and giggled, "Why, the very idee!" The others applauded with unsparing plow-hardened hands, cracking the shy ears of Frank Shallard.
