His little speech induced her to take a step forward; made her say:
"Oh, no! Do not let me drive you away!"
She spoke impulsively; hurriedly. Masters thought with everything in the tone that was desirable in a woman's voice. He smiled as he expostulated:
"But you remember, surely—it is not many moments ago—you were quite willing to allow me to drive you away."
Then she smiled too. Smiles which brought into play mouth and eyes and the dimples in her cheeks. From his own face the gravity—some people called it Austerity—had already departed. There was a peculiarly softening influence about Miss Mivvins. Perhaps his own relaxing was the result of that.
He indicated its measurement with a sweep of his hand as he spoke; continued:
"Let its length be our way out of the difficulty—it is a long lane that has no turning. How will it be if we make it large enough for both?"
It was a tentative sort of invitation. An invisible olive branch to which her hand went out. Again she smiled. A moment's hesitation ... then seated herself.
From the bag depending by silken cords from her wrist she drew a book. Having given the little girl sundry directions as to the assumption of preternatural virtue, the woman commenced to read.