“Oh, don’t say that!” she said. “You should not say such things of yourself; it is not just! You behave like—like any one else, and no one would know—not that it matters whether they did or not.”
“Doesn’t it?” said Esmeralda. “I thought it did. Everybody in London seems to be so proud of being a lord or a lady, and to look down upon everybody who isn’t.”
“Then we are different to people in London,” said Lilias, smiling. “But I think you are mistaken,” she added, quickly. “At any rate, no one would think of looking down upon you. I have to look up a long way,” she said, naïvely.
“Yes, you are small,” said Esmeralda. “You are like a little girl. I believe I could carry you in my arms like a child.”
With a little laugh and a merry flash of the beautiful eyes, she took Lilias in her arms, and raised her aloft. Lilias, taken by surprise, crimsoned, then laughed, too.
“Oh, you’re as strong as a giant!” she said.
Esmeralda held her for a moment or two with perfect ease; then, as she put her down, she kissed her on the lips. Lilias uttered a faint cry of delight, and returned the kiss.
“Ah! I do not wonder at Trafford,” she said, and ran out of the room.
Soon after Esmeralda heard the great bell in the old tower clang out the dinner-hour, and Lady Wyndover came to her. Her ladyship was all in a little flutter of excitement and delight.
“Isn’t it a wonderful place, Esmeralda?” she exclaimed. “Are you ready? Let me look at you. Why, your lace is all awry, and your hair is tumbled—that stupid Barker!”