"Indeed!" stammered madam. "In the market-place—to be sure."
"Mr. Bancroft was so kind as to relieve me of my basket," explained her daughter. "He pretends that he had not forgot me, Mamma! But he cannot deceive me."
"He never sought to deceive you, Mistress Cleone. He spoke sooth when he said your image had remained with him throughout."
"Take him into the garden, Cleone," begged madam. "He will wish to see your papa."
It had not occurred to Mr. Bancroft, but he swallowed it with a good grace.
"Will you conduct me thither, Mistress Cleone?" He bowed, one arm extended.
Cleone laid the tips of her fingers on the arm.
"Certainly, sir. We shall find Papa among the roses." They walked to the door.
"The roses!" sighed Mr. Bancroft. "A fit setting for your beauty, dear Cleone."
Cleone gave a little gurgle of laughter.