"Ah! There! I've put you through the ice at last! It's been such hard work!"
"And I come up badly doused!"
"Stimulated too! You're doing well already!"
"My thanks to my instructor," and catching the spirit of her mockery, I swept her a courtly bow.
"There! There!" she cried, dropping raillery as soon as I took it up. "You were cross at the window. I was cross on the flats. You nearly wrenched my hand off——"
"Can you blame me?" I asked. "And to pay me back you turned my head and stole my heart——"
"Hush!" she interrupted. "Let's clean the slate and begin again."
"With all my heart, if you'll wear this tartan and stop shivering." I was not ready to consent to an unconditional surrender.
"I hate your 'ifs' and 'buts' and so-much-given-for-so-much-got," she exclaimed with an impatient, little stamp, "but—but—" she added inconsistently, "if—if—you'll keep one end of the plaid for yourself, I'll take the other."
"Ho—ho! I like 'ifs' and 'buts.' Have you more of that kind?" I laughed, whisking the fold about us both. Drawing her hand into mine, I kept it there.