“I am overwhelmed by your flattery, madam,” said Polly, who, though very red, lost none of her self-possession; “but I feel that, like the traveller who tried on Charlemagne's armor, I am far more equal to combat in my every-day clothes.”
“Do not enter the lists with me in either,” said Miss Dinah, with a look of the haughtiest insolence. “Mr. Conyers, will you let me show you my flower-garden?”
“Delighted! But I will first see Miss Dill to her boat.” “As you please, sir,” said the old lady; and she withdrew with a proud toss of her head that was very unmistakable in its import.
“What a severe correction that was!” said Polly, half gayly, as she went along, leaning on his arm. “And you know that, whatever my offending, there was no mimicry in it. I was simply thinking of some great-grandmother who had, perhaps, captivated the heroes of Dettingen; and, talking of heroes, how courageous of you to come to my rescue!”
Was it that her arm only trembled slightly, or did it really press gently on his own as she said this? Certainly Conyers inclined to the latter hypothesis, for he drew her more closely to his side, and said, “Of course I stood by you. She was all in the wrong, and I mean to tell her so.”
“Not if you would serve me,” said she, eagerly. “I have paid the penalty, and I strongly object to be sentenced again. Oh, here's the boat!”
“Why it's a mere skiff. Are you safe to trust yourself in such a thing?” asked he, for the canoe-shaped “cot” was new to him.
“Of course!” said she, lightly stepping in. “There is even room for another.” Then, hastily changing her theme, she asked, “May I tell poor Tom what you have said to me, or is it just possible that you will come up one of these days and see us?”
“If I might be permitted—”
“Too much honor for us!” said she, with such a capital imitation of his voice and manner that he burst into a laugh in spite of himself.