"I think you'd better be careful of that picture, Adam!"
"Which means," said Bellew, smiling down into Miss Priscilla's young, bright eyes, "that you don't know."
"Well, Mr. Bellew, she'll be very—glad, of course,—happier I think, than you or I can guess, because I know she loves every stick, and stave of that old furniture,—but—"
"But!" nodded Bellew, "yes, I understand."
"Mr. Bellew, if Anthea,—God bless her dear heart!—but if she has a fault—it is pride, Mr. Bellew, Pride! Pride! Pride!—with a capital P!"
"Yes, she is very proud."
"She'll be that 'appy-'earted," said Adam, pausing near-by with a great armful of miscellaneous articles, "an' that full o' joy as never was! Mr. Belloo sir!" Having delivered himself of which, he departed with his load.
"I rose this morning—very early, Mr. Bellew,—Oh! very early!" said Miss Priscilla, following Adam's laden figure with watchful eyes, "couldn't possibly sleep, you see. So I got up,—ridiculously early,—but, bless you, she was before me!"
"Ah!"
"Oh dear yes!—had been up—hours! And what—what do you suppose she was doing?" Bellew shook his head.