"What have you been up to now? You certainly did get out of the way in a hurry—you've been up to the attic yourself, haven't you, now?" for mother saw that I was flurried and out of breath when I returned.
It was a little while before I owned up. But I reckoned they'd find out sooner or later anyhow. "Well," I said at last, "yes, if you will know. I ran up and put my silver toilet set on the dresser—it helped ever so much to make things look decent. And I took up those roses from the library—they make the whole room look different."
"Those roses!" my mother echoed; "why, child, Mr. Giddens sent you those roses just this morning—they're American beauties, Helen."
"I know it," I answered calmly, "so they'll be something new—to him. Besides, there's some respect due a clergyman from Edinburgh."
VI
THE GLINT OF THE HEATHER
Charlie dropped in for supper that evening. I don't remember whether or not he was specially invited and it doesn't matter. He came while everybody except myself was in the last stages of preparation for the evening meal; I was in the hall as he came in.
The first thing that caught his eye—after me—was the clerical hat that hung between two of uncle's broad-rimmed grays. He put it on and made very merry over it. It was decidedly too large for him too; as soon as he noticed that, he tipped it jauntily to the back of his head—even then it looked big. The Reverend Gordon's attic was certainly the best room in his bodily edifice.
"Your elder didn't turn up?" said Charlie.
"No, he didn't come."