"I am going to speak out."
This was the very thing she was pining for, and now that her wish was about to be gratified, she exclaimed:
"If you dare, sir!" saucily, mischievously, coquettishly.
Then what did Margaret do but lead him into a more retired spot, where, if he did speak out, no one but herself could hear him.
"If you dare, sir!" she repeated, with a smile which magnetised him. There was but little need for that; he was bewitched already.
"Call me Philip," he entreated.
"Philip," she sighed.
It was like the whisper of a rose.
He was radiant; the joy in his heart was reflected in his face. He toyed with her fingers. Slender they were, and supple, and not strong. But never were chains more potent.
"Well, Philip?" said Margaret shyly.