He came forward with his hand out and smiling:
"I've--aw--just called in for a minute," he said. "I thought--aw--you
might care for these flowers--"
But Nora rose quickly from her chair, pushing it a little from her, and
putting her hands behind her back, she faced him with her head up in the
air. My! how handsome she looked,--like a queen, or something grand like
that! "I thank you for your polite intention," she said very stiffly and
proudly, "but hereafter I prefer to have neither flowers nor visits
from you."
Well, you should have seen Chad's face! he'd been stroking his
moustache, but now, positively, he stood staring at Nora with his mouth
open, he was so astonished. "Wha--what's wrong?" he stammered. "What've
I done?"
Then Nora gave it to him; she didn't mince matters,--truly, she made me
think of Betty. "What have you done?" she repeated, opening her grey
eyes at him. "Oh! only acted as I have never known any one calling
himself a gentleman to act. Mr. Whitcombe,"--with a toss of her head
equal to anything Betty could have done,--"I will _not_ have the
acquaintance of a man who drinks and gambles."
Then _I_ was the one to be astonished; I didn't dream Nora knew anything
about that part.
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