"O Elfie, Elfie! how could you?" exclaimed he, knowing them to be the
only flowers in bloom.
"You must have them. There's nothing else pretty to give you, and I
love you," said the child, holding up her face to kiss him.
"Elvira!" said her aunt in warning, "how can you! What will this
lady think of you?"
Elvira's gesture would in any other child have seemed a sulky thrust
of the elbow, but in her it was more like the flutter of the wing of
a brilliant bird.
"You must," she repeated; and when he hesitated with "If Mrs. Gould,"
she broke away, dashed the flowers, shell and all, into the middle of
a clump of rosemary, and rushed out of sight like a little fury.
"You will excuse her, Mrs. Brownlow," said Mrs. Gould, much annoyed.
"She has been sadly spoilt, living among negro servants and having
her own way, so that she is sometimes quite ungovernable,"
"Nay, nay, she is a warm-hearted little thing if you don't cross
her," said the old farmer; "and the young gentleman has been very
kind to her."
Mrs. Gould looked as if she thought she knew her niece better than
grandpapa did, but she was too wise to speak; and the little girls,
having assisted Allen in the recovery of the shell and the flowers,
he tendered them again to her.
Pages:
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217