"Speak, Elfie."
Her colour changed again. "Mr. Carleton--will you be displeased if I say something?"
"Don't you know me better than to ask me that, Elfie?" he said gently.
"I want to ask you something,--if you won't mind my saying it."
"What is it?" said he, reading in her face that a request was behind. "I will do it."
Her eyes sparkled, but she seemed to have some difficulty in going on.
"I will do it, whatever it is," he said watching her.
"Will you wait for one moment, Mr. Carleton?"
"Half an hour."
She sprang away, her face absolutely flashing pleasure through her tears. It was much soberer, and again doubtful and changing colour, when a few minutes afterwards she came back with a book in her hand. With a striking mixture of timidity, modesty, and eagerness in her countenance she came forward, and putting the little volume, which was her own Bible, into Mr. Carleton's hands said under her breath, "Please read it." She did not venture to look up.