"I never pretend," said Rivington, with a touch of grimness. "Do you think you will be able to get your stocking over that?"
"I think so."
"Try!" he said.
She tried and succeeded.
"That's better," said Rivington. "Now for the shoes. I can put them on."
"I don't like you to," she murmured.
"Knights errant always do that," he assured her. "It's part of the game. Come! That's splendid! How does it feel?"
"I think I can bear it," she said, under her breath.
He drew it instantly off again.
"No, you can't. Or, at least, you are not going to. Look here, Chirpy, my dear, I think you must let me carry you, anyhow to the caravan. It isn't far, and I can fetch you some slippers from the mill from there. What? You don't mind, do you? An old friend like me, and a poor relation into the bargain?" The blue eyes smiled at her quizzically, and very persuasively.