“Oh yes, so is everybody,” said Hope; “but do you know, Mrs Buchanan, I think he thinks he is good-looking.”
“And so he is, Hope.”
“But he is a man, and a minister! what right has he to think about such a thing?”
Mrs Buchanan shook her head, and did not refuse to smile; for men and ministers too have their vanities.
“Helen,” said Hope, “I made our Tibbie try your fortune last night, and what do you think it was? We could not make it out at first, but Tibbie said it was a book; and you’re to get your fortune out of a book. Now, mind, and we’ll just see what happens—and, Helen, I burnt you.”
The unquiet face grew suddenly grave, and flushed over cheek and brow with the hot blush of pride; the tone changed in a moment.
“Did you, Hope? you were very cruel.”
“Oh, but you know that’s not what I mean!” said Hope; “and, Helen, you need not be angry at me.”
“Who did you burn with Helen, Hope?” said Mrs Buchanan.
Hope dared not answer; and yet there was some curiosity in the kindled indignation of that strangely moving face.