His guardian frowned.
“Does Miss Heriton permit you to call her by a stupid nickname?”
Walter was silent, but Fred ventured to stand up for his pet appellation.
“I don’t think it’s a stupid one, Mr. Aylwinne. It means a lady, and I’m sure Miss Heriton’s one.”
“The more reason, my boy, why you should call her by her own name.”
“But it sounds so long and stiff, and we like the other best,” pouted Fred. “And she don’t mind it a bit, for she says so.”
“Before such very conclusive arguments my own opinion must give way,” retorted his guardian dryly. “But take care that you never for a moment forget the respect due to Miss Heriton, unless you would incur my serious displeasure.”
The sternness with which this speech was concluded awed the sensitive boys; and nothing was said until Fred seized an opportunity of whispering in Florence’s ear:
“You do not think us rude, do you?”
“Certainly not! I am sure you love me too well to treat me discourteously.”