“Oh, then!” I said, “I am having temptation all the time, aren’t you? For instance, I want to tear up Jean’s altar-cloths, and rip Kirstie’s ties, and tool bad words on Jessie’s bindings, and burn Maggie’s wood boxes!”
He looked horribly shocked—and hurt—so I added at once—
“Of course it must be lovely to be able to do these things, they are perfect girls, and so clever—only it makes me feel like that because I suppose I am—different.”
He looked at me critically. “Yes, you are different, I wish you would try to be more like my sisters—then I should not feel so nervous about your going to London.
“It is too good of you to worry,” I said, demurely; “but I don’t think you need, you know! I have rather a strong suspicion I am acquainted with the way to take care of myself!” and I bent down and laughed right in his face, and jumped off the stile on to the other side.
He did look such a teeny shrimp climbing after me! but it does not matter what is their size, the vanity of men is just the same. I am sure he thought he had only to begin making love to me himself, and I would drop like a ripe peach into his mouth.
I teased him all the way back, until when we got into lunch he did not know whether he was on his head or his heels! Just as we came up to the door, he said:
“I thought your name was Evangeline—why did you say it was Clara Maria?”
“Because—it is not!!” I laughed over my shoulder, and ran into the house.