His heart leaped so that it hurt him; and instead of passing straight
on, as he should have done, he stood stock still, and almost spilled
his roses on the floor.
Miss Gladys's face lighted with pleasure.
"Why, it's Samuel!" she exclaimed.
"Yes, Miss Gladys," said he.
"And how do you like your position?"
"Very well, Miss Gladys," he replied; and then, feeling the inadequacy
of this, he added with fervor, "I'm so happy I can't tell you."
"I'm very glad to hear it," she said. "And I'm sure you fill it very
well."
"I've done the best I can, Miss Gladys," said he.
There was a moment's pause. "You find there is a good deal to learn?"
she inquired.
"Yes," he answered. "But you see, it's about flowers, and I was always
interested in flowers."
And again there was a pause; and then suddenly Miss Wygant flung a
question at him--"Samuel, why do you look at me like that?"
Samuel was almost knocked over.
"Why--why--" he gasped. "Miss Gladys! I don't--!"
"Ah!" she said, "but you do."
Poor Samuel was in an agony of horror. "I--I--really--" he stammered.
"I didn't mean it--I wouldn't for the world---"
He stopped, utterly at a loss; and Miss Wygant kept her merciless gaze
upon him. "Am I so very beautiful?" she asked.
This startled Samuel into lifting his eyes. He stared at her,
transfixed; and at last he whispered, faintly, "Yes.
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