There was a cordial sweetness in Allan's smile, the like to which I never saw in any other face.
Elinor had hitherto connived at her brother's attachment to Rosamund.
Elinor, I believe, was something of a physiognomist, and thought she could trace in the countenance and manner of Rosamund, qualities which no brother of hers need be ashamed to love.
The time was now come when Elinor was desirous of knowing her brother's favorite more intimately--an opportunity offered of breaking the matter to Allan.
The morning of the day in which he carried his present of fruit and flowers to Rosamund, his sister had observed him more than usually busy in the garden, culling fruit with a nicety of choice not common to him.
She came up to him, unobserved, and, taking him by the arm, inquired, with a questioning smile--"What are you doing, Allan?
and who are those peaches designed for ?" "For Rosamund Gray"-- he replied--and his heart seemed relieved of a burden which had long oppressed it.
"I have a mind to become acquainted with your handsome friend--will you introduce me, Allan?
I think I should like to go and see her this afternoon." "Do go, do go, Elinor--you don't know what a good creature she is; and old blind Margaret, you will like _her_ very much." His sister promised to accompany him after dinner; and they parted.
Allan gathered no more peaches, but hastily cropping a few roses to fling into his basket, went away with it half-filled, being impatient to announce to Rosamund the coming of her promised visitor.
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