"What do you think of me?" demanded Harding, striking a pose.
He obtained a variety of opinions. They were unable to find a "boiled shirt" with an eighteen inch neck band or collar, so a blue gingham one was made to do service. The only coat broad enough across the shoulders was a "Prince Albert," in which Bishop had been married, and Harding admitted the combination was not exactly _de rigeur_. The trousers were woefully tight at the waist, and were inches too long.
"You are lucky to get anything," declared Mrs. Harding, retying the wonderful red and yellow scarf and vainly attempting to smooth out some of the wrinkles in the coat. "You should be made to go home and to bed without your supper."
"You surely are the real goods, Governor," said Chilvers, walking about him and inspecting his costume from all angles. "What show have Marshall and the rest of us at to-night's dance against you?"
[Illustration: "What do you think of me?"]
Miss Lawrence pinned a bunch of nasturtiums on his coat, and we all stood and hilariously admired him. Bishop called him aside and motioned me to join them.
"Mother and I don't know what to do about Wallace," our host said, after hesitating a moment. "He's our hired man, you know," he added.
"He's always eaten with us," Bishop said. "He's a quiet, well-behaved sorter chap, and he's company for us, but mother is afraid it wouldn't be just the thing to have him at the table when company's here, and so I thought I'd ask you and Jack. We don't have folks here very often, and I wanter do what's right."
"You have him sit right down with us," promptly advised Harding. "If there's anybody in this country who has a right to eat good and plenty it's a hired man. If any of our folks don't like it, let them wait until the second table."
That settled it, and I could see that Bishop was pleased over the outcome.
"I sorter hated to tell Wallace to wait," he said to me after Harding had turned away. "It might offend him. He's a queer fish, but has the makings of the best hired man in the county."
When we entered the big dining-room Wallace was sitting in one corner reading. He laid aside the book, arose and bowed slightly. Harding went right up to him.
"Mr. Wallace, I believe," he said, shaking hands. "My name's Harding, and I'll introduce you to the rest of us." And he did.