“Little boy,” said she, “talk to me.”
Compton looked at her a little confounded, and did not reply.
“Stand on this gate, like me, and talk,” said she.
He obeyed the first part of this mandate, and stood on the lower bar of the little gate; so their two figures made a V, when they hung back, and a tenpenny nail when they came forward and met, and this motion they continued through the dialogue; and it was a pity the little wretches could not keep still, and send for my friend the English Titian: for, when their heads were in position, it was indeed a pretty picture of childish and flower-like beauty and contrast; the boy fair, blue-eyed, and with exquisite golden hair; the girl black-eyed, black-browed, and with eyelashes of incredible length and beauty, and a cheek brownish, but tinted, and so glowing with health and vigor that, pricked with a needle, it seemed ready to squirt carnation right into your eye.
She dazzled Master Compton so that he could do nothing but look at her.
“Well?” said she, smiling.
“Well,” replied he, pretending her “well” was not an interrogatory, but a concise statement, and that he had discharged the whole duty of man by according a prompt and cheerful consent.
“You begin,” said the lady.
“No, you.”
“What for?”