She nodded brightly.

Morgan turned to the shelf, took down a large volume of Shakespeare's
plays, and laying it on the table began to turn the pages rapidly.
Rosalind looked over his arm. He ran his finger down a leaf presently and
pointed to the line. "There," he said.

Rosalind turned back a page and pointed to her own name, and then they
both laughed as if it were a great coincidence.

A sharp tap on his arm made Miss Herbert's presence known to Morgan. Miss
Herbert was not of Friendship. She knew the value of time if the
cabinet-maker did not, and had no idea of waiting while he discussed
Shakespeare in pantomime with Rosalind.

Miss Herbert with the aid of the tablet, and Morgan with many queer
gestures to help out his faltering tongue, so long without the guide of
hearing, contrived to despatch the business relating to a claw-footed
sofa. When it was finished, Rosalind was missing, and was discovered in
the little garden, making friends with the black poodle, while the striped
cat looked on from the fence.

It was with evident reluctance she accompanied Miss Herbert to the
carriage. Before she left she took the tablet and wrote, "I am going to
learn to talk on my fingers."

"Good," the cabinet-maker answered, and he followed them to the street,
smiling and nodding. "Come again," he called as they drove away.