“And is your little sister as fond of flowers as ever?”
“Rose? Oh, yes! She has a garden of her own now, and aspires to rival the pansies and verbenas of Mr Stirling, even.”
Miss Elphinstone smiled brightly.
“I remember the first time she came into the garden.”
“Yes, that was a bright day in Rosie’s life. She has the gowans you gave her still. The garden was a great resource to her in those days.”
“Yes; so she said. I was very glad. I never gathered gowans among the hills at home, but I seemed to see that pretty shy face looking up at me.”
“Yes,” said Harry, meditatively, “Rose was a very pretty child.”
Mr Millar had drawn near by this time. Indeed, the other gentlemen were listening too, and when Miss Elphinstone looked up it was to meet a very wondering look from the new partner.
“By the by, Mr Elliott,” said her father, breaking rather suddenly into the conversation, “whom did your elder brother marry?”
“Marry!” repeated Charles.