under the circumstances but for the presence of the other.
The shabby, comfortable old library looked exactly as it had done ten years before. The identical square of rag carpet was spread over the handsome floor, polished by many decades of "dry rubbin'." Everything in the room that could shine by rubbing did so—for Africans were plentiful still at Corbin Hall. The brass fender and fire dogs, the old mahogany furniture, all shone like looking-glasses.
Miss Letty regulated her conduct toward her two admirers with the most artful impartiality, and both Sir Archy and Farebrother realized promptly that their visit was to be a season of enjoyment, and not of lovemaking—which last is too thorny a pursuit and too full of pangs and apprehensions to be classed strictly under the head of pleasure. Miss Jemima gave them a supper that was simply an epic in suppers—so grand, so nobly proportioned, so sustained from beginning to end. Afterward, sitting around the library fire, they had to hear a good many of the Colonel's stories, with Letty in a little low chair in the corner, her hands demurely folded in her lap, and the fire-light showing the milky
