"Hoity toity!" he muttered, with a crimson face; "our pretty seamstress hath the manner of a princess! One would almost suppose that she had been born and bred in a palace and was the mistress of millions, instead of being only a common working-girl and dependent upon the skill of her own dainty fingers for her living. But she is wonderfully interesting, aside from her beauty, and I must change my tactics or I shall never get into her good graces. Who would have dreamed that she would have the sense to resent my offer. Most girls would have blushed, simpered, and thanked me, feeling flattered with my condescending interest."
Mr. Hamblin did change his tactics.
The next morning, when Mona went into the sewing-room, she found a tiny vase filled with choice flowers upon her table.
She suspected that Mr. Hamblin might have been the donor, and she was annoyed that he should presume to take such a liberty upon so slight an acquaintance. Still, she was not sure that he had put them there, and the pretty things made a bright spot in the room, while their fragrance was not without its charm for her; so she did enjoy them in a measure.
"Where did you get your flowers, Ruth?" Mrs. Montague inquired, when she came in later to inquire regarding a wrap that was being mended, and espied them.
"My flowers!" Mona said, determined that she would not claim them; "they are not mine, and I do not know who put them here. I found them on the table when I came down this morning."
Mrs. Montague frowned, but said nothing more.
She suspected who had made the floral offering, however, and secretly resolved that Louis should not be guilty of continuing such attentions to her seamstress.
She gave orders to Mary to go into the sewing-room every morning before breakfast, and if she found flowers there to take them down to the dining-room and put them upon the table.
The girl found a bouquet on Mona's table three mornings in succession.