"You're very rude," said Miss King.
She smiled as she spoke, blushed slightly, and then looking at Meldon from under her eyelashes, said,—
"Come now, tell me the truth. Am I an absolute fright?"
Most men would have attempted a pretty speech of some sort. Many men would have responded to Miss King's eyes with a glance of admiration. She had very fine eyes, and a singularly attractive way of looking out of the corners of them. Miss King was, in fact, a little tired of her own company, and would have liked to hear Meldon say something pleasant about her appearance. She would have enjoyed herself very well if he had attempted some slight flirtation with her. But he snubbed her severely.
"I told you yesterday," he said, "that I'm a married man. I have a daughter two years old, and I'm a clergyman. I really can't allow you—"
The soft look vanished in an instant from Miss King's eyes. They flashed fiercely. Her face became suddenly crimson.
"You are outrageous," she said. "How dare you suggest—? How dare you even think—?"
She sprang to her feet and started at a rapid pace towards the house. Her head was poised defiantly. Meldon, though he could only see her back, felt certain that her chin was in the air. Callaghan, who had retired with his scythe to the middle of the lawn, stopped mowing and stared after Miss King. Then he laid down his scythe and approached Meldon.
"Were you telling her," he asked, "of the match you had laid out for her?"
"No," said Meldon, with a broad smile, "I wasn't."