Presently Miss Sherwood said something about tea, excused herself, and disappeared within the house.

Maggie saw that Hunt watched Miss Sherwood till she was safely within doors; then she was aware that he was gazing steadily at her; then she saw him execute a slow, solemn wink.
Maggie almost sprang from her chair.
"Shall we take a little stroll, Miss Cameron ?" Hunt asked.

"I think it will be some time before Miss Sherwood will want us for tea." "Yes--thank you," Maggie stammered.
Hunt led her down a walk of white gravel to where a circle of Hiawatha roses were trained into a graceful mosque, now daintily glorious with its solid covering of yellow-hearted red blooms.

Within this retreat was a rustic bench, and on this Hunt seated her and took a place beside her.
He looked her over with the cool, direct, studious eyes which reminded her of his gaze when he had been painting her.
"Well, Maggie," he finally commented, "you certainly look the part you picked out for yourself, and you seem to be putting it over.

Always had an idea you could handle something big if you went after it.