laughter, wondering with alarm, half feigned, half real, what the
prim, methodical dame would say were she to come down and catch them.

They reach the kitchen, thanks more to the suggestions of a friendly
cat than to John's acquaintanceship with the geography of his own
house; and Anne rakes together the fire and clears the table for her
work. What possible use John is to her--what need there was for her
stipulating that he should accompany her, Anne might find it
difficult, if examined, to explain satisfactorily. As for his
"finding the things" for her, he has not the faintest notion where
they are, and possesses no natural aptitude for discovery. Told to
find flour, he industriously searches for it in the dresser drawers;
sent for the rolling-pin--the nature and characteristics of rolling-
pins being described to him for his guidance--he returns, after a
prolonged absence, with the copper stick. Anne laughs at him; but
really it would seem as though she herself were almost as stupid, for
not until her hands are covered with flour does it occur to her that
she has not taken that preliminary step in all cooking operations of
rolling up her sleeves.

She holds out her arms to John, first one and then the other, asking
him sweetly if he minds doing it for her. John is very slow and
clumsy, but Anne stands very patient. Inch by inch he peels the
black sleeve from the white round arm. Hundreds of times must he
have seen those fair arms, bare to the shoulder, sparkling with
jewels; but never before has he seen their wondrous beauty. He longs
to clasp them round his neck, yet is fearful lest his trembling
fingers touching them as he performs his tantalising task may offend
her. Anne thanks him, and apologises for having given him so much
trouble, and he murmurs some meaningless reply, and stands foolishly