"Very well. You might do worse. Margaret is not unhappy. She has her books for a pleasure, and her brother for a care, and is content. If ever you want a home, if the day should come when Briarfield rectory is yours no longer, come to Nunnely vicarage. Should the old maid and bachelor be still living, they will make you tenderly welcome."
"There are your flowers. Now," said Caroline, who had kept the nosegay she had selected for him till this moment, "_you_ don't care for a bouquet, but you must give it to Margaret; only--to be sentimental for once--keep that little forget-me-not, which is a wild flower I gathered from the grass; and--to be still more sentimental--let me take two or three of the blue blossoms and put them in my souvenir."
And she took out a small book with enamelled cover and silver clasp, wherein, having opened it, she inserted the flowers, writing round them in pencil, "To be kept for the sake of the Rev. Cyril Hall, my friend. May --, 18--."

"Very well. You might do worse. Margaret is not unhappy. She has her books for a pleasure, and her brother for a care, and is content. If ever you want a home, if the day should come when Briarfield rectory is yours no longer, come to Nunnely vicarage. We will make you tenderly welcome."
"There are your flowers. Now," said Caroline, "you don't care for a bouquet, but you must give it to Margaret; only, to be sentimental for a moment, keep that little wild forget-me-not, and to be still more sentimental - let me take two or three of the blue blossoms and put them in my souvenir book."
And she took out a small book with a silver clasp, wherein she inserted the flowers, writing round them in pencil, "To be kept for the sake of the Rev. Cyril Hall, my friend. May -, 18-."
