Compton instantly drew back a little, made two steps, laid his hand on the palings, vaulted over, and followed Reginald.
“That's your boy,” said Mrs. Bassett.
Ruperta made no reply, but began to gulp.
“What is the matter, darling?”
“The fighting—the blood”—said Ruperta, sobbing.
Mrs. Bassett drew her on one side, and soon soothed her.
When their gentle bosoms got over their agitation, they rather enjoyed the thing, especially Ruperta: she detested Reginald for his character, and for having insulted her father.
All of a sudden, she cried out, “He has taken my handkerchief. How dare he?” And she affected anger.
“Never mind, dear,” said Mrs. Bassett, coolly, “we have got his tippet.”