something like the cover of a pocket-book or of a small case of
instruments.

Rachel's nimble fingers soon repaired the damage. John stood before her,
looking on.

Looking not only at the progress of the work, but at her. Mr. John
Massingbird was one who had an eye for beauty; he had not seen much in
his life that could match with that before him. As Rachel held the case
up to him, the damage repaired, he suddenly bent his head to steal a
kiss.

But Rachel was too quick for him. She flung his face away with her hand;
she flushed vividly; she was grievously indignant. That she considered
it in the light of an insult was only too apparent; her voice was
pained--her words were severe.

"Be quiet, stupid! I was not going to eat you," laughed John
Massingbird. "I won't tell Luke."

"Insult upon insult!" she exclaimed, strangely excited. "You know that
Luke Roy is nothing to me, Mr. Massingbird; you know that I have never
in my life vouchsafed to give him an encouraging word. But, much as I
despise him--much as he is beneath me--I would rather submit to have my
face touched by him than by you."

What more she would have said was interrupted by the reappearance of
Mrs. Verner. That lady's ears had caught the sound of the contest; of
the harsh words; and she felt inexpressibly surprised.