As Nettie had never been known to “tell a story” in her life, Jack could not say that he thought she would; but he replied,—
“You have acted deceitfully. You have run after Dick when we all thought you were somewhere else, and—there’s no use in being in a passion—but what do you suppose any one would think of a girl who behaved in such a manner?”
Nettie blushed, but answered,—
“I can’t help what any one thinks, Jack. I know I’m right, and I must go on doing it.”
“Indeed you won’t,” said Jack angrily; “for unless you promise never to meet him any more, I shall tell father at once that I found you here. What do you think Cherry would say to you?”
“Cherry would say I was perfectly right, and would do exactly the same thing himself,” said Nettie, triumphantly. “I am not doing any harm; and I must go on. I can’t tell you why I am doing it, because I promised not, and I’ll do it nearer home if you like it better. Bob and I quarrelled about it many a time, he knows.”
“Oh, he knows, does he? What a fool he must have been to let you do it.”
“He won’t tell of me,” said Nettie, “and he never did let me when he was at home. But I am not a silly, horrid girl, Jack, whatever you think; and I’m not flirting with Dick, nor—nor—engaged to him; and when—when—it’s right, I don’t mind people thinking so!”
But this speech ended in a flood of tears, as poor Nettie’s latent maidenliness began to assert itself.
“And pray,” said Jack, “does Dick come after you because it’s right?”