She laughed, albeit she was still not far from tears. "Yes, I want someone to pin a handkerchief on my head in the proper Italian fashion. I don't look much like a contadina yet, do I?"
He surveyed her more critically. "It's not a bad get-up. You look very nice anyhow. If you like to bring me the handkerchief, I will see what I can do. I know a little about it from the point of view of an amateur artist. You want some earrings. Have you got any?"
Dinah shook her head. "Of course not."
"I believe my sister has," said Scott. "I'll go and see."
"Oh no, no! What will she think?" cried Dinah in distress.
He uttered his quiet laugh. "I will present you to her by-and-bye if I may. I am sure she will be interested and pleased. You finish off as quickly as you can! I shall be back directly."
He limped away again down the passage, moving more quickly than was his wont, and Dinah hastened back into her room wondering if this informality would be regarded by her chaperon as a great breach of etiquette.
"Rose thinks I'm vulgar," she murmured to herself. "I wonder if I really am. But really—he is such a dear little man. How could I possibly help it?"
The dear little man's return put an end to her speculations. He came back in an incredibly short time, armed with a leather jewel-case which he deposited on the threshold.
Dinah came light-footed to join him, all her grievances forgotten. Her hair, notwithstanding its waywardness, clustered very prettily about her face. There was a bewitching dimple near one corner of her mouth.