He continued to tug grimly at the whip-lash. "I'm not friends with anyone at the present moment," he said. "But it isn't worth crying over anyway. Why don't you run home and play draughts with Bertie?"
"Because I'm not what you take me for!" Dot suddenly laid trembling hands on the creaking leather and faced him with all her courage. "I can't help what you think of me," she said rather breathlessly. "But I'm not going to leave you here by yourself. You may be as furious as you like. I simply won't!"
He pulled the whip sharply from her grasp. She thought for the moment that he actually was furious and braced herself to meet the tempest of his wrath. And then to her amazement he spoke in a tone that held neither sarcasm nor resentment, only a detached sort of curiosity.
"Are you quite sure I'm worth all this trouble?"
"Quite sure," she answered emphatically.
"And I wonder how you arrived at that conclusion," he said with a twist of the mouth that was scarcely humorous.
She did not answer, for she felt utterly unequal to the discussion.
They began to walk on down the mossy pathway. Suddenly an idea came to
Dot. "I only wish Lady Carfax were here," she exclaimed impetuously.
"She would know how to convince you of that."
"Would she?" said Nap. He shot a swift look at the girl beside him, then:
"You see, Lady Carfax has thrown me over," he told her very deliberately.
Dot gave a great start. "Oh, surely not! She would never throw over anyone. And you have always been such friends."