"You foolish darling! Lie down and be quiet, or I shall think you light-headed again."
"But you shall, I declare you shall!—Hush! there is some one at the door. Come in!"
A servant opened the door and informed the young ladies that Mr. Mellen was in the parlor.
"Tell him to come up," said Elsie.
The servant went out, and Elsie sat up among her pillows, twisting that splendid mass of hair around her head. As she stooped forward, her eyes fell on the litter of broken flowers, and she called out eagerly,
"Oh Bessie, do sweep them up; throw them out of the window, under the bed, anywhere, so that he does not know about them. There would be no end to his questions, if he saw so much as a broken rose bud."
Elizabeth swept up the scattered flowers with her hands and cast them through the open window, scarcely heeding what the girl said about them, in the agitation of the moment. As she turned from the open sash, Grantley Mellen came into the room. He was indeed a grand and noble looking man, with dignity in his manner, and character in his face; evidently possessed of strong but subdued passions, and a power of concentration that might engender prejudices difficult to overcome. That he was upright and honorable, you saw at a glance. When he sat down by that fair young creature, and took her hand in his, the tenderness in his voice and eyes thrilled Elizabeth to the heart. Elsie it simply gratified.
"Why Bessie," she said, with threatening mischief in her eyes, "you haven't spoken to Grant yet."
"Because he was occupied with you," answered Elizabeth with grave dignity, that kept down the rebellious spirit in Elsie's eyes. "Now I will shake hands with Mr. Mellen and go down to my class."
With a gentle, but not altogether unembarrassed greeting, the young lady went out of the room, leaving the brother and sister together.