Jane left Alice’s flowers in the entry while she delivered the letter to her mother, but she displayed her own tiny bouquet proudly.
“See what Mr. Harding gave me!”
“Mr. Harding is very kind. Was that what made you so late?”
“Yes, we stopped at the greenhouse to get them only I didn’t know he was going to get them—he just asked me did I think you would mind if I went in there with him?”
“Well, that was very nice—run along—I want to read my letter.”
Chicken Little hurried away to take Alice her flowers.
“For me—really?” demanded Alice: “Who sent them?”
“He asked me would I give them to you with Dick Harding’s compliments.”
The telltale “he” brought a flush to Alice’s face and the “Dick Harding” deepened it. Alice buried her face in the fragrant posy to hide her embarrassment.
“Did he say anything else, Jane?”