“Amen!” said Arthur, and he turned, and, drawing Mysie towards him, he kissed her, as if the blessing had been the seal of their betrothal. The tears came into her eyes, and she was glad to turn to the old lady to be praised and thanked for her beautiful flowers.
“Now, then, of course you are come to breakfast? Arthur, when you were a little boy you always liked my pine-apple preserve; so I shall get you some.”
“At his present stage of existence, my dear, I should think he would rather begin upon eggs and bacon.”
“But don’t forget the jam for a finish, Mrs Harcourt,” said Arthur.
So they sat down and had a merry breakfast, lingering over it till Arthur jumped up, saying:
“I must go home to catch Hugh before he goes to Oxley, to ask him where we shall shoot.”
“But you are not going to carry away Mysie?”
“Oh, no,” said Mysie. “I don’t like the neighbourhood of guns at all, and I must stay to put my flowers in water.”
“Very well, then, I’ll leave you. Mr Harcourt, we shall see you to-night.”
Mysie stayed behind, and arranged her flowers and renovated Mrs Harcourt’s dinner-cap, by which time the morning was so far advanced that she was persuaded to stay to lunch, before going to give the forgotten invitations. Meanwhile Mrs Harcourt entertained her with much pleasant gossip about the days of her courtship and the wedding that had followed it.