“If you thought there was real danger you would not be content to let me cross.”
Dulcibel found this unanswerable.
“But if I would rather not,” she said, relenting.
“Then you will come to please me, and not yourself.”
“You are the most tiresome, provoking, tyrannical man I ever knew,” Dulcibel answered; after which her eyes fell, and the lashes grew moist, and she clung to his arm. “Georgie, dear, I’m very horrid, I know, but I’ll come. Only Nessie is not to walk over alone.”
“I will go back for her,” said George, marvelling at the illogical nervousness which professed to doubt the strength of the bridge, and yet insisted on a double weight.
Once across, Dulcibel’s spirits rose, even while she was declaring that she should not have a moment’s peace until the return crossing was effected. George smiled again, brought Nessie across, sent her on to Joan, and said softly—
“The old lesson, Dulcie.”
“What old lesson?”
“‘I will fear no evil.’”