'Leave go,' she exclaims, 'I think you forget, what—'
'Who is it,' he goes on, not heeding her, 'is it Helmdon or Dalrymple?' he is so close that she can feel his breath on her cheek, 'ah, I can see by your eyes it is Dalrymple?'
This is too much, and with a sudden movement she raises her other hand and gives him a good box on the ear. He is so taken aback that he drops Lippa's hand, and she, thoroughly frightened, rushes down the path into the unlighted part of the garden, and falls headlong into the arms of Jimmy; who, consumed with despair, has sought refuge in solitude.
'I—er I beg your pardon,' says Philippa, starting back, 'I—I—' but sobs check her words.
'What is the matter?' asks he tenderly, his despair having vanished; the gentle tone of his voice makes her cry the more and so he does the thing that comes most naturally to him, without thinking of the consequences, for he puts his arm round her, and kisses her madly; and Lippa without resisting, leans her perturbed little head against his shoulder feeling unutterably happy.
'Why have you been running away from me all the evening?' he asks, when a perfect understanding has been made between them.
'I didn't,' she says indignantly, 'it was you who never came near me.'
A kiss is the answer to this, and then tenderly, 'But what were you crying about just now?'
'I was frightened rather—'
'What at, darling?' asks Jimmy, gazing down at the blushing face, which is being rubbed up and down against his coat sleeve.