We forbare to repeat Sir Harry’s answer. Nevertheless, with Dick’s help, the unfortunate gown was extricated, and privately ironed by Dorothy.
“That is a good morning’s work of yours,” observed Phillis, quietly looking down at the heap at her feet. “Dorothy, it seems Sir Harry is master here. If any more orders come for us, you may as well say, ‘The Misses Challoner have given up business.’”
CHAPTER XLVII.
“IT WAS SO GOOD OF YOU TO ASK ME HERE.”
Mrs. Challoner heaved a gentle little sigh when in the afternoon the fly carried off Nan and Dick to the station: it brought to her mind another day that would come far too soon. Phillis spoke out this thought boldly as she ran back to the cottage.
“I wanted to throw an old shoe for luck, mammie,” she said, laughing, “only I knew Nan would be so dreadfully shocked. How happy they looked! And Dick was making such a fuss over her, bringing out his plaid to wrap her in. Certainly he is much improved, and looks five years older.”
Perhaps Dick shared Mrs. Challoner’s thought too, for an expression of deep gravity crossed his face as he sat down by Nan,—a look that was tender, and yet wistful, as he took her hand.
“Oh, Nan! it does seem so nice to have you all to myself for a little,—just you and I, alone, and all the rest of the world outside somewhere! Do you know it is possible to be almost too happy!” And Dick sighed from the very fulness of content.