I showed her the little fountains that rippled all day, the rocks and ferns.

She admired everything.
"Your sister must be happy in spite of her illness," she said to me.
But I could bear those drooping eyes no longer.
"Miss Thesiger," I said, hurriedly, "do not be unkind to me.

I know I am very presumptuous, but do, pray do, give me one kind look before you go." Then she raised her eyes and looked at me.

Alas! my tell-tale face.

They fell again, and the crimson flush mounted to her white brow.