He rose, and crossing over to Hooker's table, clapped him heartily on the back.
"How do, Hooker?
I didn't recognize you in them fine clothes, but Phoebe guessed as how it was you." Flushed, disconcerted, irritated, but always in wholesome awe of Mr.
Hopkins, Jim returned his greeting awkwardly and half hysterically.

How he would have received the more timid Phoebe is another question.

But Mr.Hopkins, without apparently noticing these symptoms, went on:-- "We're only just down, Phoebe and me, and as I guess we'll want to talk over old times, we'll come alongside o' you.

Hold on, and I'll fetch her." The interval gave the unhappy Jim a chance to recover himself, to regain his vanished cuffs, display his heavy watch-chain, curl his mustache, and otherwise reassume his air of blase fastidiousness.

But the transfer made, Phoebe, after shaking hands, became speechless under these perfections.