“You, Mat! Oh, how relieved I am! I thought I was being carried off again by bushrangers. Yes, I was pilfering, or, rather, looking at your old books; but I went in to blow out the light. You have no business to leave a candle burning in such a dangerous position.”
“I’m very sorry, Miss Annie; but I was star-gazing—and—thinking—and forgot.”
“Well, and what were you thinking of so deeply, when the whole place might have been in a blaze through your carelessness?”
“I—I cannot tell you.”
“But you must, and you shall, Mat. Come! I know. You thought that Mr. Fulrake should have taken his turn carrying the water for me.”
“Oh, no! no! Let me always wait upon you! I want no help. And oh! won’t you take my arm, instead of his, next time in going up the steps, or anywhere. Indeed, I’ll take you safely.”
“Why, Mat, what has come over you? Mr. Fulrake merely repeated the formality of taking me in to dinner, and that was only once. I’m sure I would always rather you did come with me and carry my buckets, for Mr. Fulrake was dreadfully clumsy, upsetting the water everywhere, and quite rude when I laughed at him; and—”
“Was he?” broke in Mat, with sudden anger; “then I’ll have him out, and—”
“Stop, Mat! Where are you going?”
“Going? Why, any one that is rude to you—” and Mat was making off when Annie seized him by the arm.