“I think so too,” said Rose, ingenuously; and then, blushing and laughing, she suddenly corrected herself, saying, “Oh! I did not mean that; I meant I like this dress and this occupation, and think they suit me perhaps as well as any other.”
“Shall I help you with this also, Rosalie?” said Mark, taking up a sugar-duster.
“Oh, no, thank you! I have nearly done. If you want employment, you may go into the garden and select a bouquet of the sweetest half-blown white rose buds and heliotrope that you can find, as a morning offering to our bride.”
“And for you, a posy of heartsease,” he answered meaningly, pressing her fingers as he went.
Rosalie finished her fruit, ornamenting the edges of the dishes with fresh green leaves, and sent them to the table. Then she went and changed her dress for breakfast; and when Mark returned from the garden, he found her standing in the hall waiting for him.
She was looking very lovely, in her fresh white muslin morning dress, without any ornament, but her own soft brown ringlets, and the bright blush and smile lighted by happiness.
“Here they are, sweetheart!” he said, gaily and fondly showing the flowers.
“An elegant bouquet for the bride!” she exclaimed admiringly.
“And a sweet little posy for you,” he said, placing the heartsease on her bosom.
“Il est a propos, n’est ce pas?”