Oh yes, she would do that, with pleasure, if he wished it. He did wish it. The selections were made with great taste and without regard to expense. The hat was a little treasure.
What was that sigh for? Can a woman—a young girl—just on the eve, too, of a journey to a watering place, see such a hat shut up in its paper case, without a sigh? It is more than human nature ever could do. Athalia is human, and that hat is just such a one as she would like herself. She is too poor. So she sighed and went home.
"Shall I send it?"
"Let it be until I return, and then I will give directions."
It is no matter what Walter said to her on the way home, but she had determined to go with the Morgans, to Lake George, and so she told him.
"Good night then, I must go home and get ready, you know what the word is with father—'that is my business.'"
He had a little other business. He went back to the store, and gave the necessary orders about the purchase.
"Would the lady be kind enough to write a little note that he would dictate, and put it in the bonnet box?"
"Certainly, anything to oblige the gentleman. Was that his sister? His cousin perhaps? Well, she is very pretty, at any rate. Was that her name? What a sweet name."
What sweet words to Walter. How we do like to hear those we love spoken of in such words.