'I think, Madge,' the elder sister said, slowly, 'if that is any trouble to you, you might send him a message he would understand, without your writing much—a flower, perhaps——'
'But what sort of flower?' said the younger sister, eagerly.
Nan's face flushed somewhat, and she seemed embarrassed and slow to answer.
'You—you should know yourself,' she said, turning her eyes aside. 'Any flower, perhaps—a bit of—of forget-me-not——'
'Of course that would do very well; but where could you get forget-me-nots just now?'
Nan again hesitated; she seemed to be forcing herself to speak.
'There's a little bit in a button-hole in ——'s window,' she said, at last; 'I saw it there yesterday at least.'
'Dear Mother Nan,' said Madge, enthusiastically, 'you are as clever as twenty Vice-Chancellors! We will walk along at once, and see if it is still there. And in the meantime I will write a word on a sheet of paper—I can manage that anyway—and you might address an envelope——'
'Oh no, I couldn't do that,' said Nan, inadvertently shrinking back.
'Very well, I will struggle through it,' said Madge, blithely; and she went and got writing-materials, and scrawled the few words necessary.