“She would not love him if he were not,” said the elder sister proudly.
“This is a secret?”
“Yes; I know that I can trust you. It will be time enough to tell father and mother when he brings her home and kneels at their feet for their blessing.”
“Who is he?”
“John Woodstock, the school-master. He has neither father nor mother, he is beautiful and good, enthusiastic and fascinating.”
She had not once lifted her eyes to his face; his fingers had clasped and unclasped themselves; his voice was not as steady as usual.
“That notice was a very pretty puff, Lady Blue.”
“Yes, I like it I will paste it into my notebook.”
“Is that all you have seen?”
“No, I saw two in the reading-room, but I like this better.”