Edith could not tell, but she presumed he did, for he was the
smartest man that ever lived; and in her enthusiastic praises she
waxed so eloquent, using, withal, so good language, that Arthur
forgot she was a waiting maid, and insensibly began to entertain a
feeling of respect for the sprightly child, whose dark face
sparkled and flashed with her excitement. She WAS a curious
specimen, he acknowledged, and he began adroitly to sound the
depths of her intellect. Edith took the cue at once, and not
wishing to be in the background, asked him, as she had at first
intended doing, if he'd read the last new novel.
Without in the least comprehending WHAT novel she meant, Arthur
promptly replied that he had.
"How did you like it?" she continued, adjusting her crimson scarf
as she had seen Mrs. Atherton do under similar circumstances.
"Very much indeed," returned the young man with imperturbable
gravity, but when with a toss of her head she asked; "Didn't you
think there was too much 'PHYSICS in it?" he went off into peals
of laughter so loud and long that they brought old Rachel to the
door to see if "he was done gone crazy or what.
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