On that he laughed more than ever and vowed she was the lady for him. “Your ciphering would double my income ten times over,” he said.
He was very kind indeed—would have her taste his wine, which she didn’t like, and the little cakes on the red and blue plate, which she did.
“And what’s your name?” she asked.
“My name,” said he, “is a secret. Can you keep a secret?”
“Yes,” said Elfrida.
“So can I,” said he.
And then a flouncing, angry maid came suddenly sweeping down between the box hedges and dragged Elfrida away before she could curtsey properly and say, “Thank you for being so kind.”
“Farewell,” said the beautiful gentleman, “doubt not but we shall meet again. And next time ’tis I shall carry thee off and shut thee in a tower for two hundred years till thou art seventeen and hast learned to cipher.”
Elfrida was slapped by the maid, which nearly choked her with fury, and set down to supper in the big upstairs room. The maid indignantly told where she had found Elfrida “talking with a strange gentleman,” and when Cousin Betty had heard all about it Elfrida told her tale.
“And he was a great dear,” she said.