"You shan't do it," growled Jem.
"I'd love it," answered Meg. "I don't think I should be a bit scared. And then I'd want you to come and look at me sittin' among 'em all when my training was done. You'd like that wouldn't you? You'd be proud to have known me I guess."
But the girl had gone too far. Jem caught hold of her wrist, holding it in his iron grasp.
"If I thought you meant it," he said fiercely, "I'd take you back this moment to the van. You'd best take care how you talk to me."
Meg laughed up into his face.
"I'm afraid they'd never take me. Why, what do you think they'd say to me if I went to 'em like this," she added looking down at her dress. "I'm not fine lady enough for them London folks. I fear there ain't much chance for me."
But he still held her wrist, and stood looking down upon her with his bright blue eyes.
"Promise me," he said, and his voice had a ring of tenderness in it which touched the heart of his companion. "Promise me that you won't be up to tricks, but will take care of yourself. Promise me now."
"Of course I shall," said Meg. "Don't you be afeared. I'm not a fool. And I'll remember you, dear; I'll never forget you, and when little Steve is dead and you leave 'em, marry you right enough."
He dropped her arm then, and without another look left her standing alone among the bracken and heather.