"Dust," responded Kittie calmly. "What's the matter, Kat?"
"Do you mean to tell me you didn't see Olive wearing the flowers he gathered before breakfast, and that you didn't see how he looked at her at the table?" cried Kat impatiently.
"That's the way they all do; it's the first symptoms I guess, for it's the way that Bea and Dr. Barnett began."
"Oh, the idea," laughed Kittie, "of Olive being in love."
"I don't care, perhaps she isn't, but he is," asserted Kat, with an appeal to Bea, who had just come in.
"I don't know," said Bea. "I saw him give her the flowers, and fasten those in her hair, but I don't think it's anything."
"Well, you watch—there they go now!" exclaimed Kat, whereupon they all rushed to the window, to see Olive and Roger strolling out among the flowers.
"Would you ever think that was Olive?" said Kittie, as they looked. "Think how quiet and snappy she used to be, and how ugly she always looked, and just see how pretty she is now, and how she laughs and talks. But she's not in love, dear no; she looks as cool and dignified as a cucumber, not a bit blushy, or anything of the kind."
"Well, I should hope not," said Kat severely. "One engaged sister is enough; two would ruin the family."
"If such a thing was to happen," remarked Bea, with a little mercenary expectation, "Congreve Hall would be Olive's; just think of it, girls, how grand! and Cousin Roger is immensely wealthy, and there would be no end of splendid things;" and Bea sighed a little, as she spoke, for she was not going to win any wealth or grand home by her wedding, and there came, just now, a little moment of regret, that such would never be hers. Then she looked at her ring, and felt wicked and ungrateful. Would she exchange with Olive, or any other girl who might win wealth? No, no, never!