She broke off, laughing and nodding knowingly at Mr. Teesdale, who explained how Missy had been once bitten and was twice shy. John William said that he could very well understand it; and he offered to take Missy out 'possum-shooting as soon as ever there was a moon.
“Have you ever fired a gun, Missy?” said Mr. Teesdale; and Missy shook her head.
“P'r'aps you wouldn't like to try?” said John William.
“Wouldn't I so!” cried the girl, with flashing eyes. “You show me how, and I'll try to-morrow.”
“To-morrow's Sunday,” Mrs. Teesdale said solemnly. “Is your cup off, Miriam?”
It was not, and because the cocoa was too hot for her Missy poured it into the saucer, and drank until her face was all saucer and red fringe. This impressed Arabella.
“We'll soon teach Missy to shoot,” remarked Mr. Teesdale, smiling into his plate, “if she'll hold the gun tight and not mind the noise.”
“I'll do my level,” said Missy gamely.
John William proceeded to assure her that she could not be taught by a better man than his father, whom he declared to be the best shot in that colony for his age. The old man looked pleased, praise from his son being a very rare treat to him. But Arabella had been neglecting her supper to watch and listen to the guest, and now she asked, “Do the fine ladies shoot in England, Missy?”
“Not they!” replied Missy promptly. “I should like to catch them.”