She had appeared in a side passage between two grass-grown walls, a hazel stick in her hand, her hair tied up with ribbons, a red petticoat showing her ankles. Frank astonishment was the mood of the moment. A girl, surprised at such an hour, may look a sloven, but Nance seemed part of the fresh life of the morning.
For an instant she looked anxious.
"You! Have you brought bad news?"
"No. An early ride, nothing more."
"I thought the French must have landed."
"I have not heard of it. The other day, you know, I forgot to give you that scarf."
Her face and eyes lit up with amusement.
"Oh, that scarf! It seems to lie heavily upon your conscience!"
"It does."
"Leave it—or keep it."