Chapter X
“She wants me to give it up,” said Maiden.
In a little back bedroom at Blake's, Suse had been whispering to the other girl of Danny, and showing, half -shyly, the trousseau made with such anxious labour. She smoothed a white frill with rough fingers, speaking absently.
"Why, dear?"
"Weil — she says — do you think the bonnet's so awful unbecoming, Suse?"
Suse shut a little smile into the drawer with the white frill.
"Trust a mother ter find out jest where ter tackle a gel," she murmured. Then she looked over at Maiden's face closed in the curve of her hands as a flower is closed in its sheath.
"Didn't nobuddy ever tell yer as more than the Lassie bonnet weren't becoming ter yer, Maiden?"
"Only Steve Derral — an' he don't count."
'pon't he? Since when?"
"Since always," said Maiden, untruthfully.
"I ain't seen him this month past. He's up
musterin' somewheres out back, Danny says."
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