“Not for anybody?” He weighted the question with all the expression he was capable of.
“No, not for anybody,” she repeated, rather more readily than he could have wished.
“And you’re sure you’re not angry with me?” he persisted, “and you like the bangle?”
She had taken it off to re-examine it, and she held it up to him.
“Here, put it on me again, and don’t be silly,” she said, the old spirit beginning to wake in her eyes.
“Do you remember when you were a child the way you used to thank me when I gave you anything?” he asked, pressing her hand hard.
“But I’m not a child now!”
Lambert, looking in her face, saw the provoking smile spread like sunshine from her eyes to her lips, and, intoxicated by it, he stooped his head and kissed her.
Steps came running along the walk towards them, and the fat face and red head of the Protestant orphan appeared under the boughs of the lime-tree.
“A messenger from Bruff’s afther bringing this here, Miss Francie,” she panted, tendering a letter in her fingers, “an’ Miss Charlotte lef’ me word I should get tea when ye’d want it, an’ will I wet it now?”