She looked up, her face full of light.
“Do you want to pull some of those flowers?”
“Oh, no! no! no! I wouldn’t hurt the darling things for the whole world! Oh, do put on your clothes and come down and see the sweet things close by!” she exclaimed.
But now another figure appeared upon the scene—Pompous Pirate, with a large watering-pot. Seeing the child on the edge of his parterre, he naturally enough feared damage to his treasures.
“Wot yo’ doin’ yere, long o’ my f’owers, little missis?” he demanded, rather crossly.
“Looking at them,” answered Owlet, with the light of joy fading from her face.
“Well, min’, now, doane yo’ pull none o’ dem! Doane yo’ do it! I woane ’low no chillun to ’buse my f’owers. Year me good, doane yo’?”
“If you think I would hurt the dear things you are not possessed of common sense,” said Owlet indignantly, as she turned and entered the house.
Roma soon joined her in the oak parlor, where the breakfast table was set. Roma had not witnessed the scene between the child and the gardener, for she had turned away from the window at the moment the man had appeared with his watering-pot; and now she was too much occupied with thoughts of an impending interview with Will Harcourt to think of asking Owlet why she had left the flowers so soon.
Owlet, on her part, was no telltale, and so Roma never knew how the child had been offended by the servant.