He felt his awkwardness leaving him.

He was almost certain that the little dressmaker loved him, and the thought gave him boldness.

He came toward her and took the tray from her hands, and, turning back into the room with it, made as if to set it upon his table.
But the piles of his pamphlets were in the way.

Both of his hands were occupied with the tray; he could not make a place for it on the table.
He stood for a moment uncertain, his embarrassment returning.
"Oh, won't you--won't you please--" He turned his head, looking appealingly at the little old dressmaker.
"Wait, I'll help you," she said.

She came into the room, up to the table, and moved the pamphlets to one side.
"Thanks, thanks," murmured Old Grannis, setting down the tray.
"Now--now--now I will go back," she exclaimed, hurriedly.
"No--no," returned the old Englishman.