“Why, squire, to be sure,” said Rosa.
“What—my brother!”
“Yes, miss; and seen to it all hisself: leastways, I found the things properly muddled. 'Twas to be seen a man had been at 'em.”
Rosa retired, leaving Zoe's face a picture.
Just then Vizard put his head cautiously in at the window, and said, in a comic whisper, “Is she gone?”
“Yes, she is gone,” cried Zoe, “and you are wanted in her place.” She ran to meet him. “Who ordered a fire in my room, and muddled all my things?” said she, severely.
“I did. What of that?”
“Oh, nothing. Only now I know who is my friend. Young people, here's a lesson for you. When a lady is out in the rain, don't prepare a lecture for her, like Aunt Maitland, but light her fire, like this dear old duck of a woman-hating impostor. Kiss me!” (violently).
“There—pest!”
“That is not enough, nor half. There, and there, and there, and there, and there, and there.”