“But,” she said, pushing back the cheque [p262] gently—“I can only accept four guineas of this—that is the most my story would have earned. The rest your name commanded!”
“Nonsense, nonsense,” he said, “that Review always pays well, this is your own cheque, fairly earned; remember I have deprived you of all the glory of the story. For I know Wilkie too well to be able to hope that he will condescend to explain such a mistake in his columns.”
So Miss Bibby, dazzled, tucked the bit of pink paper away in her little basket.
“And now,” said Hugh, “will you just see if the children have enough to eat?”
“Oh dear, oh dear,” said Miss Bibby, fluttering up, “I really had forgotten them for the moment. I—I hope they have not made themselves ill.”
When she had obtained doubtful satisfaction on this point and turned her head again towards Hugh, she found him in the act of tossing all her packets of eatables one after the other over the edge of the rock where the water went plunging down to yet another fall.
“Hurrah! hurrah!” shouted Lynn, who had seen the act, “now she’ll have to eat some of our lovely things.”
“Have a lawberry, Miss Bibby, go on,” Max enjoined, his little mouth full of the delicious fruits and red juice dripping down his tunic.
[p263]
“I—I—” began Miss Bibby.
But Hugh calmly tucked her hand in his arm and led her to the children’s table. “I am taking you into dinner, madam, and I insist that you eat everything I put before you.”