"Oh! no, indeed, I wouldn't deprive you of it for anything. It is just where it ought to be."
Eleanor persisted, and finally overcame both her reluctance and her sister's objection.
She was struck with the caressing way in which she took and held it, pressing it against her withered cheek.
"Sister, don't you remember the Giant-of-Battles we used to have in our garden at Rosebank? This reminds me of it so—its fragrance is just the same."
"Yes. We used to have a great many roses," explained the younger sister, as she led the way into the next room as if she were asking Eleanor into a palace, though this room was almost as bare of furniture as the other, the chief difference being an upright case which was manifestly a folding-bed, and a table on which were a score of books, and a few old daguerreotypes.
"Your friend, Mr. Marvel, was here the other day. What a nice young man he is."
"Yes," said Eleanor. "I am going out to see him. Where has he moved to?" Miss Pansy said she did not know the street; but her sister had the address. She would go and see. When she came back, she went over and opened the old Bible lying on the table. "Here is where we keep the addresses of those we especially value," she said, smiling. "Oh! here it is. When he was here the other day, he brought us a treat; a whole half-dozen oranges; won't you let me prepare you one? They are so delicious."
Eleanor, who had been holding a bank-note clutched in her hand, thanked her with a smile, but said she must go. She walked across the room, and took up the Bible casually, and when she laid it down it gaped a little in a new place.
"Oh, you know we have had quite an adventure," said Miss Pansy.
"An adventure? Tell me about it."