What sort of a key ? '' cried Paul in an eager tone . `` Oh , a little silver one like the key of my piano , or the black cabinet . She woke and was very angry to find me meddling . '' `` What did it belong to ? '' asked Paul . `` Her treasure box , she said , but I do n't know where or what that is , and I dare not ask any more , for she forbade my speaking to her about it . Poor Mamma ! I 'm always troubling her in some way or other . '' With a penitent sigh , Lillian tied up her flowers and handed them to Paul to carry . As she did so , the change in his face struck her . `` How grim and old you look , '' she exclaimed . `` Have I said anything that troubles you ? '' `` No , Miss Lillian . I 'm only thinking . '' `` Then I wish you would n't think , for you get a great wrinkle in your forehead , your eyes grow almost black , and your mouth looks fierce . You are a very odd person , Paul ; one minute as gay as any boy , and the next as grave and stern as a man with a deal of work to do . '' `` I have got a deal of work to do , so no wonder I look old and grim . '' `` What work , Paul ? '' `` To make my fortune and win my lady . ''
When Paul spoke in that tone and wore that look , XXXXX felt as if they had changed places , and he was the master and she the servant .
Lillian Paul eyes flowers forehead minute piano sort tone troubles