“Come!” I cried gayly. “I’ll risk it. I do not believe you’ve the heart to be cruel, Miss Mellison.”
“Thank you for the surname, and also for telling me I’m heartless.”
“You can’t be that as long as mine goes a-begging,” I said, impudently.
She peeped up at me roguishly from under her long lashes and shook her head.
“Come,” said Duke, impatiently; “what are we going to do? Don’t let’s stand chattering here all day.”
“I’ll tell you,” I cried in a sudden reckless flush of extravagance. “Aren’t there pretty places on the Thames one can get to from here?”
“Oh, plenty,” said Duke, dryly, “if one goes by train.”
“Then let’s go and make a pleasant water party of it.”
He shook his head with a set of the lips.
“Those are rare treats,” he said. “Our sort can’t afford such jinks except after a deal of saving.”