deflection from the question of the Sunday papers. "Though you ought to, up in these hills. The only thing left of it is rye-and-Indian bread, and these baked beans and fish-balls."
"But they are very good?"
"Yes, I dare say they are not the worst of it."
She was a woman who tended to levity, and I was a little afraid she might be going to say something irreverent, but if she were, she was forestalled by the Altrurian asking, "Would it be very indiscreet, madam, if I were to ask you some time to introduce me to that family?"
"The Camps?" she returned. "Not at all. I should be perfectly delighted." The thought seemed to strike her, and she asked, "Why not go with me this morning, unless you are inflexibly bent on going to church, you and Mr. Twelvemough?"
The Altrurian glanced at me, and I said I should be only too glad, if I could carry some books, so that I could compromise on a good action, too. "Take one of your own," she instantly suggested.
"Do you think they wouldn't be too severe upon it?" I asked.
"Well, Mrs. Camp might," Mrs. Makely consented,
