"This is for grafting," I tried to explain.
"But I want it!" was the haughty reply, and she impatiently held out her bit of a hand for the rose. I handed it to her, and for a moment she buried her little nose in it and then tried to fasten it to her dress. Presently a thought seemed to strike her, for she lifted the rose to her lips, and then, turning to me again, asked—
"Has the Count returned home?"
"He has," I answered.
"He did not come alone? A gentleman came with him, did he not?"
I answered in the affirmative.
"Are they asleep yet, do you think? Which is his window?"
"Whose? The Count's?"
"No, that I know! The stranger's?"
"The one that is open," I said, wondering what she meant. She looked around, and observed a double step-ladder standing in front of a tree. "Bring that ladder," she said to me, "and put it in front of that window."