“For some things,” I replied.
“What things?”
I hesitated, and then said vaguely, “Lots of things.”
We reached the orchard, and sauntered silently to a remote shady corner, where, under a huge apple tree, stood a low rustic seat.
“Let’s sit down a bit, Kitty; it’s too soon after dinner for you to go rampaging about, making yourself hot. They don’t want the fruit till tea-time, and that won’t be for hours yet.”
“And I don’t believe the greengages are ripe any more than the pears,” I said; “we have not had one yet. There might be a few raspberries and some apricots left.”
“Well, we’ll see presently. It is so jolly sitting here all by ourselves. You don’t know how I have been longing to see you again, ever since Friday night, when you ran away from me without saying good-bye.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did. It was my lucky star brought you down to the river on Friday night, Kitty.”
“You might have got rheumatic fever, and been a cripple all your days, or died,” I responded gravely. “People do sometimes, when they get such a drenching as you must have had.”