I won't talk about them trees till I get Hepseba's opinion." At the house Hepseba waddled out on the little stoop in response to old man Gifford's call, and stood regarding the strangers stonily through her narrow little slits of eyes.
"This gentleman, Hepseba," said old man Gifford, "wants to buy my walnut trees.

What do you think of him ?" In response to that leading question, Hepseba studied Sam Turner from head to foot with the sort of scrutiny under which one slightly reddens.
[Illustration: Hepseba studied him from head to foot] "I like him," finally announced Hepseba, in a surprisingly liquid and feminine voice.

"I like both of them," an unexpected turn which brought a flush to the face of Miss Stevens.
"All right, young man," said old man Gifford briskly.

"Now, then, you come in the front room and write your contract, and I'll take your check." All alacrity and open cordiality now, he led the way into the queer-old front room, musty with the solemnity of many dim Sundays.
"Just set down here in this easy chair, Mrs.-- What did you say your name is ?" Mr.Gifford inquired, turning to Sam.
"Turner; Sam J.Turner," returned that gentleman, grinning.

"But this is Miss Stevens." "No offense meant or taken, I hope," hastily said the old man by way of apology; "but I do say that Mr.Turner would be lucky if he had such a pretty wife." "You have both good taste and good judgment, Mr.Gifford," commented Sam as airily as he could; then he looked across at Miss Stevens and laughed aloud, so openly and so ingenuously that, so far from the laughter giving offense, it seemed, strangely enough, to put Miss Josephine at her ease, though she still blushed furiously.