Some time had passed, when Faith felt Pet's little hand come round her neck—the other was round Mr. Linden. Faith's start was instant; springing up she went to the window where behind the curtain lay the work her hand had dropped. Faith gathered it up. She would have put that muslin dress out of the way then!—but there it lay in plain sight and close neighbourhood. Yet somebody must do it, and it was her business; and with cheeks of a very pretty deep rose that set off her white drapery, Faith applied herself to the due folding of the troublesome muslin. In two minutes Pet came to help her, but in a different mood, though her eyelashes were glittering.
"Endy, come here and look at this—I think it is so pretty. What flowers must Faith wear with it?"
"Carnations look very well."
"I said white roses."—
"Which will you wear, Mignonette?" said Mr. Linden.
He was favoured with a glance from two gentle eyes, which it was worth a little wickedness to get. It was only a flash. "I think Pet is right,"—she answered with great gravity.
He came close to her side, the low-spoken "you shall have them—" touched more things than one.
"What do you suppose I found her doing?" said Pet, folding down a sleeve.
"Pet!"—said Faith. "Don't touch that! Not to-night."
"Do you wish me to leave it unfolded?—the servants will perhaps sweep in the morning."