'I've often heerd tell on her,' said she, 'but I niver thought she's
be so pretty, and so staid and quiet-like too. T' most part o' girls
as has looks like hers are always gape-gazing to catch other folks's
eyes, and see what is thought on 'em; but she looks just like a
child, a bit flustered wi' coming into company, and gettin' into as
dark a corner and bidin' as still as she can.
Just then Sylvia lifted up her long, dark lashes, and catching the
same glance which she had so often met before--Charley Kinraid was
standing talking to Brunton on the opposite side of the
fire-place--she started back into the shadow as if she had not
expected it, and in so doing spilt her tea all over her gown. She
could almost have cried, she felt herself so awkward, and as if
everything was going wrong with her; she thought that every one
would think she had never been in company before, and did not know
how to behave; and while she was thus fluttered and crimson, she saw
through her tearful eyes Kinraid on his knees before her, wiping her
gown with his silk pocket handkerchief, and heard him speaking
through all the buzz of commiserating voices.
'Your cupboard handle is so much i' th' way--I hurt my elbow
against it only this very afternoon.' So perhaps it was no clumsiness of hers,--as they would all know,
now, since he had so skilfully laid the blame somewhere else; and
after all it turned out that her accident had been the means of
bringing him across to her side, which was much more pleasant than
having him opposite, staring at her; for now he began to talk to
her, and this was very pleasant, although she was rather embarrassed
at their tete-a-tete at first.
'I did not know you again when I first saw you,' said he, in a tone
which implied a good deal more than was uttered in words.
'I knowed yo' at once,' she replied, softly, and then she blushed
and played with her apron-string, and wondered if she ought to have
confessed to the clearness of her recollection.
'You're grown up into--well, perhaps it's not manners to say what
you're grown into--anyhow, I shan't forget yo' again.' More playing with her apron-string, and head hung still lower down,
though the corners of her mouth would go up in a shy smile of
pleasure. Philip watched it all as greedily as if it gave him
delight.
'Yo'r father, he'll be well and hearty, I hope?' asked Charley.
'Yes,' replied Sylvia, and then she wished she could originate some
remark; he would think her so stupid if she just kept on saying such
little short bits of speeches, and if he thought her stupid he might
perhaps go away again to his former place.