"
"Oh, do I want any one to thank me!" Sir Francis said with sudden, all
unusual petulance, turning round on his astonished sister, who jumped in
her chair at his tone, instantly repentant. To incur the anger of the head
of her house was the thing of which she was most on earth afraid.
"Do what you think right, of course, Francis."
"Of course I shall do what I think right."
He went to his own room, settled himself in his chair by the open window,
tore open the morning paper which it was his custom to read there. The
window opened upon a long oblong of flower-bordered lawn, enclosed by
thick square-cut yew hedges on two sides; at the end a series of glass
houses shut out the view. The eyes of Sir Francis strayed from the pages
of the newspaper to the sunshine and shadow of the freshly-cut lawn. At
the door of one of the greenhouses beyond, Deleah, in her black muslin
dress and wide black hat, was standing in conversation with Jarvis, the
head-gardener. Part of her duty, he had been told, was to wheedle Jarvis
out of the flowers Miss Forcus liked to see in her rooms, but of which he
resented the cutting.
Sir Francis looked at the pair--they were too far off for him to read
their faces, but he know how the girl would be playing her part, smiling
shyly, with appealing eyes; how Jarvis was probably denying her, being
human, for the mere delight of being asked.
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