'O no,' said Katie—'no they don't—mamma, and Linda, and Gertrude never do; nor Harry Norman, he never does, nor Alaric.'
'No, Harry Norman never does,' said Charley, with something like vexation in his tone. He made no exception to Katie's list of truth-tellers, but he was thinking within himself whether Alaric had a juster right to be in the catalogue than himself. 'Harry Norman never does, certainly. You must not compare me with them, Katie. They are patterns of excellence. I am all the other way, as everybody knows.' He was half laughing as he spoke, but Katie's sharp ear knew that he was more than half in earnest, and she felt she had pained him by what she had said.
'Oh, Charley, I didn't mean that; indeed I did not. I know that in all serious things you are as truthful as they are—and quite as good—that is, in many ways.' Poor Katie! she wanted to console him, she wanted to be kind, and yet she could not be dishonest.
'Quite as good! no, you know I am not.'
'You are as good-hearted, if not better; and you will be as steady, won't you, Charley? I am sure you will; and I know you are more clever, really more clever than either of them.'
'Oh! Katie.'
'I am quite sure you are. I have always said so; don't be angry with me for what I said.'
'Angry with you! I couldn't be angry with you.'
'I wouldn't, for the world, say anything to vex you. I like you better than either of them, though Alaric is my brother-in-law. Of course I do; how could I help it, when you saved my life?'
'Saved your life! Pooh! I didn't save your life. Any boy could have done the same, or any waterman about the place. When you fell in, the person who was nearest you pulled you out, that was all.'