"Oh, take them gently!" Salome exclaimed, as the boys rushed upon them, eager to fill the girls' baskets for them. "Take them gently; don't break one off too short," she said, bending down and gathering the flowers with a tender hand. "Look at the fringe on this one; and oh, Kate, just see how deep it is, and how perfect the leaves are."
"Oh yes; but I like primroses better when they are gathered, and bluebells. The Stoke Woods are filled with bluebells in May."
"Hallo!" exclaimed Digby, "there's Percival and his elder brother. When he was at the college they used to be called—"
"You shouldn't tell school nicknames; it is not fair," Reginald exclaimed. "Come down here, Percival," he shouted, for the field and orchard lay a little below the level of the road. "Come down and speak to us, Percival."
Percival obeyed, and his brother remained standing on the bank above.
Salome gave him one quick glance, and all the bright colour left her face. He saw and understood, and, following his younger brother, came down and said,—
"Introduce me to your friends, Robert."
"Oh, I forgot you did not know them, Phil. Miss Wilton and Miss Salome Wilton."
Philip Percival bowed with a pleasant smile, and stooped to gather some of the flowers almost as gently as Salome herself.
"I must take some to my father," he said. "They will please him; he has a craving for bright colours, and daffodils more than any flower seem to fill the house with light."