"She is showing him a new path over the
mountain," said Virginia. "I really think she knows them all by heart."
"I hope she hasn't taken to minding cattle," observed Dan, irritably. "I
believe in women keeping at home, you know," and as he rose to go he told
Virginia that she had "an Irish colour."
"I have been sitting in the sun," she answered shyly, going back to the
window when he left the room.
Dan went quickly out to Prince Rupert, but with his foot in the stirrup, he
saw Miss Lydia training a coral honeysuckle at the end of the portico, and
turned away to help her fasten up a broken string. "It blew down
yesterday," she explained sadly. "The storm did a great deal of damage to
the flowers, and the garden looked almost desolate this morning, but Betty
and I worked there until dinner. I tell Betty she must take my place among
the flowers, she has such a talent for making them bloom. Why, if you will
come into the garden, you will be surprised to see how many summer plants
are still in blossom."
She spoke wistfully, and Dan looked down on her with a tender reverence
which became him strangely. "Why, I shall be delighted to go with you," he
answered. "Do you know I never see you without thinking of your roses? You
seem to carry their fragrance in your clothes." There was a touch of the
Major's flattery in his manner, but Miss Lydia's pale cheeks flushed with
pleasure.
Smiling faintly, she folded her knitted shawl over her bosom, and he
followed her across the grass to the little whitewashed gate of the garden.
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