"Yes!" said Leslie, "I did. And if you will go with me to the swamp where those flowers came from, you shall hear one sing a strain that will instantly remind you of the opening chorus, while another renders Di Provenza Il Mar from Traviata."
The lady turned again to the flowers. She was thinking something deep and absorbing, but no one could have guessed exactly what it might be. Finally: "I have decided," she said. "Shall we number these one, two, and three, and so indicate them?"
"Yes," said Leslie a little breathlessly.
"Put your initials to the slips and I'll read them," offered Douglas.
Then he smilingly read aloud: "Mr. Lowry, one. Mrs. Minturn, two. Mr.
Minturn, three!"
"I cast the deciding vote," cried Leslie. "One!"
The squaw seemed to think of a war-whoop, but decided against it.
"Now be good enough to state your reasons," said Mr. Winton. "Why do you prefer the slipper basket, Mr. Lowry?"
"It satisfies my sense of the artistic."
"Why the fringed basket, Mrs. Minturn?"
"Because it contains daintier, more wonderful flowers than the others, and is by far the most pleasing production."