way behind the marigold or any flower in comeliness and innocence, but
at least I wish I was better."

"I don't."

"Ay, but I do, ten times better, for--for--"

"For why, Susan?"

Susan closed the garden gate and took a step toward the house. Then,
turning her head over her shoulder, with an ineffable look of
tenderness, tipped with one tint of lingering archness, she let fall,
"For your sake, George," in the direction of George's feet, and glided
across the garden into the house.

George stood watching her. He did not at first take up all she had
bestowed on him, for her sex has peculiar mastery over language, being
diabolically angelically subtle in the art of saying something that
expresses 1 oz. and implies 1 cwt.; but when he did comprehend, his
heart exulted. He strode home as if he trod on air and often kissed
the little flower he had taken from the beloved hand, "and with it
words of so sweet breath composed, as made the thing more rich;" and
as he marched past the house kissing the flower, need I tell my reader
that so innocent a girl as Susan was too high-minded to watch the
effect of her proceedings from behind the curtains? I hope not, it
would surely be superfluous to relate what none would be green enough
to believe.

These were Susan's happy days. Now all was changed. She hated to water
her flowers now. She bade one of the farm-servants look to the garden.