“I'm afraid there is not much to do about here, my lord,” she said quietly. “We are very plain folk in these parts.”
“Yes,” assented the other. An obvious compliment rose of itself to his lips, but he restrained himself, though with difficulty. Miss Rose bent her head over her work and stitched industriously. His lordship took up a book and, remembering his mission, read for a couple of hours without taking the slightest notice of her. Miss Rose glanced over in his direction once or twice, and then, with a somewhat vixenish expression on her delicate features, resumed her sewing.
“Wonderful eyes she's got,” said the gentleman, as he sat on the edge of his bed that night and thought over the events of the day. “It's pretty to see them flash.”
He saw them flash several times during the next few days, and Mr. Rose himself, was more than satisfied with the hauteur with which his guest treated the household.
“But I don't like the way you have with me,” he complained.
“It's all in the part,” urged his lordship.
“Well, you can leave that part out,” rejoined Mr. Rose, with some acerbity. “I object to being spoke to as you speak to me before that girl Annie. Be as proud and unpleasant as you like to my daughter, but leave me alone. Mind that!”
His lordship promised, and in pursuance of his host's instructions strove manfully to subdue feelings towards Miss Rose by no means in accordance with them. The best of us are liable to absent-mindedness, and he sometimes so far forgot himself as to address her in tones as humble as any in her somewhat large experience.
“I hope that we are making you comfortable here, my lord?” she said, as they sat together one afternoon.
“I have never been more comfortable in my life,” was the gracious reply.