Olivia went up to her father, and kissed him with the tenderness which seemed to have deepened since her sacrifice, and, with his arm round her waist, they were leading the way to breakfast, when a footman in the Bradstone livery rode up, and, touching his hat, delivered a box to Olivia.
Mary and Annie uttered an exclamation.
“Oh, do open it! It is only tied with string.”
“Allow me,” said the bishop, benignly, and, removing the lid, he disclosed three bouquets.
One, the largest, was composed of rare, white blossoms, and had a gold bracelet round the stem, with “Olivia” inlaid in pearls. There were similar bracelets for the two girls, who fell to exclaiming, rapturously:
“Oh, they are too lovely, aren’t they, dear? How kind of Mr. Bradstone! And all alike, too!” and they ran from one to the other to show their treasures.
“Extremely handsome,” said the bishop, smiling. “Really, so generous a bridegroom deserves to be happy!”
Olivia said nothing for a moment; then, as if suddenly remembering, said:
“I am glad you like them,” and as Bessie passed near she called her, and was giving the bouquet and bracelet to her, when Mary exclaimed:
“Oh, Olly, dear! How can you part with it, even for a moment! I mean to keep mine beside my plate and stare at it all breakfast-time.”