Franklin turned and looked at her, and as he did so Malcolm Fraser's outburst came back into his mind. What a charming child she must have been before the spoiling process had had time to take its full effect! What a high-spirited, insolent, beautiful, untamed thing she was now with the world at her feet. "Good afternoon!" he answered, with a curious quickening of his pulse.
"Don't you love the view here? It's wonderful. I always come and drink it in when I feel the need of being soothed."
"That's why you've come now, I suppose," said Franklin, drily.
"No. I'm utterly unruffled and at peace with the world."
"May I say 'I don't believe you' without hurting your feelings?"
"Surely," said Beatrix. "Say anything you like. It's a free country,—a little too free perhaps." She bent down and picked a rose-bud and put it to her lips.
"Very good. Then I'll add this at once. I haven't wasted time since I saw you last."
"Oh, how pleasant to think that I've had a good effect upon you," she said, with a mischievous smile. "You have the reputation of being a past-master in the art of wasting time."
Franklin ignored the remark, although he noticed that she had two of the most ravishing dimples he had ever seen. "You may not know it, but this morning I went through a pretty bad hour with your people. I didn't actually lie to them, but I managed with a great effort not to tell them anything that was true."
"Then I win my bet," said Beatrix.