"Sure!"
"Do you think I'm pretty?"
He studied her a moment, and his lips worked silently. Then he said deliberately:
"Well,—I don't know as I'd call you exactly a pretty woman, but you're something more than that—"
"Cut it out!" she exclaimed dryly; "I know all the rest! I've heard it before. Stop before you tell me I have 'fine eyes' and am good-natured. I know! 'The bride was a distinguished-looking brunette of great grace and dignity, and wore her clothes well!' Never mind, Dougal, you're honest, anyway," she added.
He opened his mouth to protest, repentance in his eyes, but she blew a kiss at him and darted through the gate. He watched her till she passed through the inner door, where she waved a last time.
She walked rapidly on board, went up the stairway, and hesitated by the door of the cabin. A girl passed her, looked back and then returned timidly.
"Excuse me, but ain't you the young lady that works in Mr. Granthope's office?" she said.
"I did, but I'm not there any more. He's gone out of business," Fancy managed to reply. Her quick eye had recognized the girl as Fleurette.
"I'm sorry for that. He's nice, isn't he? He was awfully kind to me, and he said it was on account of you. Did you know he wouldn't even take any money from me?"