int. That made no difference with her own.
After three or four days of the chaperon’s open arrangement, it grew into a custom for Heathcote to meet Anne at sunset in
the garden, and stroll up and down with her for half an hour. She was always there, because she was sent there. Heathcote
never said he would come again; it was supposed to be by chance. But one evening Anne remarked frankly that she was very glad
he came; her grandaunt sent her out whether she wished to come or not, and the resources of the small garden were soon
exhausted. They were sitting in an arbor at the end of the serpentine walk. Heathcote, his straw hat on the ground, was
braiding three spears of grass with elaborate care.
“You pay rather doubtful compliments,” he said.
“I only mean that it is very kind to come so regularly.”