into the palm of the hand—and tried to hide the rent. She kept up her compliments, and I kept up my determination to deserve them or die:
“Ah, you have had experience! [A rip down the back of the hand.] They are just right for you—your hand is 
ENTERTAINING AN ANGEL. very small—if they tear you need not pay for them.” [A rent across the middle.] “I can always tell when a gentleman understands putting on kid gloves. There is a grace about it that only comes with long practice.” [The whole after-guard of the glove “fetched away,” as the sailors say, the fabric parted across the knuckles, and nothing was left but a melancholy ruin.]
I was too much flattered to make an exposure and throw the merchandise on the angel’s hands. I was hot, vexed, confused, but still happy; but I hated the other boys for taking such an absorbing interest in the proceedings. I wished they were in Jericho. I felt exquisitely mean when I said cheerfully,—
“This one does very well; it fits elegantly. I like a glove that fits. No, never mind, ma’am, never mind; I’ll put the other on in the street. It is warm here.”
It was warm. It was the warmest place I ever was in. I paid the bill, and as I passed out with a fascinating bow, I thought I detected a light in the woman’s eye that was gently ironical; and when I looked back from the street, and she was laughing all to herself about something or other, I said to my-
