Then she saw her name and her expression changed to wonder . The Old Lady , peering through the boughs , could have laughed for very pleasure over the success of her little plot . `` For me ! '' said Sylvia , lifting the flowers . `` CAN they really be for me , Mattie ? Who could have left them here ? '' Mattie giggled . `` I believe it was Chris Stewart , '' she said . `` I know he was over at Avonlea last night . And ma says he 's taken a notion to you -- she knows by the way he looked at you when you were singing night before last . It would be just like him to do something queer like this -- he 's such a shy fellow with the girls . '' Sylvia frowned a little . She did not like Mattie 's expressions , but she did like Mayflowers , and she did not dislike Chris Stewart , who had seemed to her merely a nice , modest , country boy . She lifted the flowers and buried her face in them . `` Anyway , I 'm much obliged to the giver , whoever he or she is , '' she said merrily . `` There 's nothing I love like Mayflowers . Oh , how sweet they are ! '' When they had passed the Old Lady emerged from her lurking place , flushed with triumph . It did not vex her that Sylvia should think Chris Stewart had given her the flowers ; nay , it was all the better , since she would be the less likely to suspect the real donor . The main thing was that Sylvia should have the delight of them .
That quite satisfied the Old Lady , who went back to her lonely house with the cockles of her heart all XXXXX a glow .
at by from in like of over that to with