It was perfectly true that he had been accustomed to look forward to band nights.

It was true that he used to like to have a neighbor in to supper afterwards, and play the fool with the banjo and crack silly jokes; talk shop with Johnson, who was an auctioneer's clerk himself; smoke atrocious cigars and make worse puns.

And now! He looked at her almost pitifully.
"I--I can't manage it just yet," he said, hurriedly.

"I'll write--or see you again soon.

Ellen, I'm sorry," he wound up, "but just at present I can't change anything." So Burton paid the bill and the tea-party was over.