“Do you think so?” said Rose.
“Yes. And I fancied Mr and Mrs Greenleaf thought so, too. I saw them exchanging glances more than once.”
“Did you? It is to be hoped the minister did not see them.”
“Merleville people are all on the watch—and they are so fond of talking. It is not at all nice, I think.”
“Oh, well, I don’t know. It depends a little on what they say,” said Rose, knotting up her hair. “And I don’t suppose Mr Perry will hear it.”
“I have commenced wrong,” said Graeme to herself. “But I must just say a word to her, now I have began. It was of ourselves I was thinking, Rose—of you, rather. And it is not nice to be talked, about. Rosie, tell me just how much you care about Mr Perry.”
“Tell me just how much you care about him, dear,” said Rose.
“I care quite enough for him, to hope that he will not be annoyed or made unhappy. Do you really care for him, Rosie?”
“Do you, Graeme?”
“Rose, I am quite in earnest. I see—I am afraid the good foolish man wants you to care for him, and if you don’t—”