'Well, Honor!'—Kate paused and looked hard at her. 'How is it that Larry bought it, and you had it in your chest? That is what I want to know.'
'Larry gave it me.'
'Oh—ho! He gave it you!'
'Yes, I sat up with him when he was watching for the lamb-killer; he is grateful for that trifling trouble I took.'
'But, Honor! Marianne Spry said that she and others chaffed Larry in the van about the kerchief he had bought for me—and it was not for me.'
Honor said nothing; she worked very diligently with her fingers by the poor light of the tallow candle on the table. Kate stooped to get sight of her face, and saw that her cheek was red.
'Honor, dear! The kerchief was not for me. Why did you make me wear it?'
'Because, Kate—because you are the right person to wear his present.'
'I—why I?' asked Kate impetuously.
Honor looked up, looked steadfastly into her sister's eyes.