Instead of being struck with the good sense of this discovery, Marmaduke roars with laughter.
"Oh, you needn't laugh," I say, slightly offended: "it is a very good sign. I have read in books how girls shudder and shiver when kissed by a man they don't like; and, as I never shudder or shiver when you kiss me, of course that means that I like you immensely. Don't you see?"
"I do," says Marmaduke, who is still laughing heartily. "And I also see it is an excellent reason why I should instantly kiss you again. Oh, Phyllis! I think if we looked into the family Bible we would discover we had all mistaken your age, and that you are only ten instead of eighteen."
"Why?"
"For many reasons. Come; let us walk on."
As lunch-hour approaches, we retrace our steps until we reach the principal avenue. Here Mr. Carrington declines my invitation to enter the house and partake of such light refreshments as may be going, and departs with a promise to take us for a drive the following day.
Nature tells me the luncheon-hour must be past, and, impelled by hunger, I run down the gravel sweep at the top of my speed; but, just as I get to the thick bunch of laurels that conceals the house from view, Billy's voice, coming from nowhere in particular, stops me. Presently from between the evergreens his head emerges.
"I thought he was with you," he says, with an air of intense relief. "Well?"
"Well?" I reiterate.
"Why don't you tell me," cries Billy, angrily, "instead of standing there with your mouth open? Did he hear what we said?"