"Well! we're none of us too good," answered Jemima; "I know that. But you are very good. Nay, I won't call you so, if it makes you look so miserable. But come away downstairs."
With the fragrance of Ruth's sweetness lingering about her, Jemima was her best self during the next half-hour. Mr Bradshaw was more and more pleased, and raised the price of the silk, which he was going to give Ruth, sixpence a yard during the time. Mr Farquhar went home through the garden-way, happier than he had been this long time. He even caught himself humming the old refrain:
On revient, on revient toujours,
A ses premiers amours.
On revient, on revient toujours,
A ses premiers amours.
But as soon as he was aware of what he was doing, he cleared away the remnants of the song into a cough, which was sonorous, if not perfectly real.
CHAPTER XXI
Mr Farquhar's Attentions Transferred
The next morning, as Jemima and her mother sat at their work, it came into the head of the former to remember her father's very marked way of thanking Ruth the evening before.
"What a favourite Mrs Denbigh is with papa," said she. "I am sure I don't wonder at it. Did you notice, mamma, how he thanked her for coming here last night?"