one cannot help loving virtue and bravery."

Miss Muir looked very earnest and pretty as she spoke, standing there
with the sunshine glinting on her yellow hair, delicate face, and
downcast eyes. Sir John was not a vain man, but he found it pleasant to
hear himself commended by this unknown girl, and felt redoubled
curiosity to learn who she was. Too well-bred to ask, or to abash her by
avowing what she seemed unconscious of, he left both discoveries to
chance; and when she turned, as if to retrace her steps, he offered her
the handful of hothouse flowers which he held, saying, with a gallant
bow, "In Sir John's name let me give you my little nosegay, with thanks
for your good opinion, which, I assure you, is not entirely deserved,
for I know him well."

Miss Muir looked up quickly, eyed him an instant, then dropped her eyes,
and, coloring deeply, stammered out, "I did not know--I beg your
pardon--you are too kind, Sir John."

He laughed like a boy, asking, mischievously, "Why call me Sir John? How
do you know that I am not the gardener or the butler?"

"I did not see your face before, and no one but yourself would say that
any praise was undeserved," murmured Miss Muir, still overcome with
girlish confusion.

"Well, well, we will let that pass, and the next time you come we will
be properly introduced. Bella always brings her friends to the Hall, for
I am fond of young people."

"I am not a friend. I am only Miss Coventry's governess." And Miss Muir