"Darling, you say that you will speak to her. Perhaps she will listen to you and consent to make us happy. But she has forbidden me to come here again, or to join you in your daily walks. So how am I to find out her decision?" he whispered, fearful lest his ordinary voice might be overheard, and it was well that he took that precaution, for Jewel was near at hand, listening with bated breath to catch every word.
Flower whispered softly back.
"Perhaps I could send you a note, Laurie, dear."
"It might be intercepted," he replied, as cautiously.
"Could you not manage to meet me for a few minutes, Flower, without any one knowing?"
She thought a moment, then agreed to his request, and an appointment was made to meet for a few minutes that evening in the garden. Flower was the most obedient of daughters, but feeling that her mother was entirely too severe in this case, her impetuous young spirit prompted her to rebellion.
When her lover had gone Flower sought her mother's room, and with all her powers of persuasion tried to move that hard heart. But she might just as well have cried to a rock. Mrs. Fielding remained harsh and unyielding, and at last ordered the unhappy girl from her presence.
Longing for sympathy in her trouble, Flower sought her twin sister and poured out the story with which Jewel was already acquainted through her eavesdropping propensities.
Jewel listened in cold silence, and her dark eyes beamed with triumph as she said at last: