She pushed aside some large ivy leaves in one of the forks of the elm, and deposited the letter in a deep, natural crevice—the bottom of which was quite invisible, although easily reached by the hand.
'How did you know to search there?' asked Dempster.
'Because I knew Muriel was in love.'
'Did she tell you?'
'No, no; this was the way of it.'
Miss Jane was in her element. She leant against the bole of the tree and folded her arms across her belt.
'I observed that she had acquired a habit of going about with her eyebrows absurdly elevated, with a languishing look in her eyes, and with her lips just touching each other; but evidently ready at a moment's notice to open and sigh, or to compress and kiss. I knew very well what these signs meant in a girl of her age. Just raise your eyebrows, Mr. Dempster.'
Mr. Dempster raised his eyebrows.
'No, no! not to the extent of expressing astonishment, but in this way. See.'
Miss Jane suited the action to the word.