"Oh, Mr. Trevellian!" Bessie exclaimed, springing to her feet and
blushing scarlet. "How you frightened me! Pray walk in. I did not expect
you. I--I--am mending father's coat."
"Yes, I see," he answered, offering her his hand after he had greeted
her father with his most graceful, courtly manner. "I see you are. I
wonder now if you are doing it well. I used to have some experience in
such matters when I was roughing it in Australia. I am a beautiful
darner; let me try my hand, please;" and taking the coat from her before
she had time to recover from her astonishment, he seated himself upon a
chair and began industriously to ply the needle, while Bessie looked on
amazed.
"You see I am quite a tailor," he said, pushing his thick brown hair
back from his white forehead, and flashing upon her one of those rare
smiles with which he always obtained the mastery and made friends even
of his enemies.
How charming he was, and he never seemed to see the humble room, the
faded carpet, the dingy oil-cloth, or the coarse hair-cloth furniture
which had offended Neil and made him call the place a hole.
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