Was there more than admiration and curiosity? Could she admit to the weakness of a deeper interest built upon such slight knowledge? She said to herself emphatically "no." And yet she was perplexed.
Mrs. Shaw, on her return from the station, learning that Elizabeth was in the garden, followed her there. The little lady's eyes sparkled, and an odd smile crossed her lips, as she came upon her niece seated under a tree, her elbows planted on her knees, her firm chin resting in her hand, her clear dark eyes fixed on the bed of forget-me-nots before her. It was not thus the elder woman was used to see the resolute, active girl, to whom relaxation never meant inaction.
"Well, dear," she began, as she approached, "I saw the colonel safely off. But he was very low—very low indeed. He says he is afraid you don't like him."
Elizabeth flushed. "What nonsense! How could that make him low, aunt? A man like that! Even if it were true—and it is not. I don't know him well enough to—to like him or dislike him."
"Then he need not despair. I shall tell him so. He said if you hated him, perhaps he had better not return here. The truth is, he admires you very much, but he wants encouragement. He is proud—and not at all expansive, as you see. He generally takes no notice of girls."
Elizabeth's lip curled sarcastically. "Perhaps he expects them to fall down on their knees before him. I am not going to do so."
"He is not a bit conceited, really," returned her aunt, with a smile. "On the contrary, he is almost shy,
