At a Girl's Mercy, or, The Fortunes of War — page 109: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

98 AT A GIRD’S MERCY. dured that. ‘‘This is fitting work for you, Miss Nan. Flowers are your fit companions. ”’ “Oh,”’ she laughed, wickedly. She had not a trace of fear of the man this morning, the world was so sweet to her. If she had chosen she could have shown him a note scribbled on a scrap of paper in her pocket that changed the whole day for her. “Tf flowers are my fit companions, Mr. Blake, to what class are you to be consigned? Sunflowers?”’ She was laughing easily. There was no harshness in her face or voice. He thought what a sweet woman she would be could she but be as friendly toward him as now she was. There was almost a re- gret in his heart that he could not always inspire her with such kindly feelings in his behalf. He knew full well that she seldom held such pleasant words for him. He held his hatin his hand and fanned himself with it as he stood leaning against the doorway of the summer-house, towering above her in his strength and energy. She looked up in her merry fashion—nothing could put her out of temper that morning—and shook her sunny head, her lips parted, just showing the pearly teeth, the dimples breaking the smoothness of the warm pink cheeks. ‘I wonder that you walked over this morning, Mr. Blake,’ she said. ‘“‘Itis such a grand morning for a canter. If I had your big chestnut, I’d never have the ambition to walk a single step.”’ He leaned carelessly against the door-post. His black curls were lifted and swayed by the breeze he raised with the motion of his hat.’ A more pleasant light came into his eyes as they looked down at the dainty little lady at his feet, her hands filled with the warmly colored flowers. comicbooks.com ; ¢,* er ae he o- . Soon PP ws ae i ‘ se 5 gh ee le a i