He sat down on the seat and drew her gently till she stood in front of him—gently, but it was like the hand of iron in the velvet glove (of which, no doubt, you have often read).
“Now, Mistress Arden,” he said softly, “tell me over again this romance that you tell your cousin.”
Elfrida told it.
“And where did you hear this pretty story?” he asked.
“OLD PARROT-NOSE HAD ELFRIDA BY THE WRIST.”
“Where are we now?” gasped Elfrida, who was beginning to understand.
“Here in the garden—where else?” said Cousin Richard, who seemed to understand nothing of the matter.
“Here—in my custody,” said the tutor, who thought he understood everything. “Now tell me all—every name, every particular—or it will be the worse for thee and thy father.”
“Come, sir,” said Cousin Richard, “you frighten my cousin. It is but a tale she told. She is always merry, and full of many inventions.”