Guy vouchsafed no answer to his brother; he was too much absorbed in turning over the pages of the beautiful Flora on his knee.
"What do you say, all of you? Father, don't you think she would like it? Then, suppose you give it to her?"
At this inopportune moment Miss Silver returned.
She might have been aware that she was under discussion—at least so much of discussion as was implied by Guy's eager words and his mother's silence, for she looked around her uneasily, and was about to retire.
"Do not go," Guy exclaimed, anxiously.
"Pray do not," his mother added; "we were just talking about you, Miss Silver. My son hopes you will accept this book from him, and from us all, with all kind birthday wishes."
And rising, with a little more gravity than was her wont, Mrs. Halifax touched the girl's forehead with her lips, and gave her the present.
Miss Silver coloured, and drew back. "You are very good, but indeed I would much rather not have it."
"Why so? Do you dislike gifts, or this gift in particular?"
"Oh, no; certainly not."