She did not even start and blush, as she had done once before, when he spoke to her, as he now bade her “good-morning,” but responded in a quiet, lady-like way—cheerfully, too—“good-morning, Mr. W——”
“Will you have the kindness to step into the office by and by, Miss Hattie, when you are most at leisure? I have something to show you,” he said.
“Certainly, Mr. W——. I have only ten more pages to arrange in this volume, and it will take me but a little while. Then I will come.”
Mr. W—— moved on around the room, speaking to one employee here and there till he saw her start for the office, and he entered it a moment before she did.
“I have taken a liberty, I fear,” said he, “but in looking over your portfolio I found this sketch by a different hand, and thinking you might not wish to part with it to Mr. Legare, I took it from the portfolio before sending it.”
“Oh, thank you—thank you, Mr. W——. I would not have parted with it for a world. I did not know it was in there. I thought I had restored it to the envelope in which it was sent to me by ——, a very dear friend.”
She blushed, and seemed confused as she spoke thus, rapidly, holding out her hand, and taking the sketch.
“And on another point I have taken a liberty,” he added, kindly looking away, that she might recover from her agitation. “I found a very fine portrait of myself and one of Mr. Jones, our foreman, and, remembering well the scene, felt a desire to preserve it. Will you allow me to purchase it?”
And he exhibited the sketch which had made him and his sisters so merry the night before.
Hattie blushed to the very temples.