“This is Alexina and she
Is a girl but she
Plays like I tell her and she
Cried because we had to come away
And this is Alexina.”
“He thinks, your son does,” said Alexina, addressing herself to the Captain, “that he was a precocious person, whereas he was only—”
“Young,” said the Captain.
“Lamentably egotistical,” said Alexina.
“Give it to me,” said Willy, “my picture and my feelings thereon.”
“No,” said the girl; “I want it.”
“Yes.” He said it with the King William air. She made a little mouth, but gave him the card, which he put back in his wallet and the wallet into his pocket. “You’re welcome to a copy of the lines,” he said.
Alexina, bestowing on him a glance of lofty disdain, departed, high-headed, into the house.
But he ran after her and stooped, that he might look into her face; was he laughing at her?
“Oh,” she said, and wheeled upon him, but had to laugh too, such was the high glee behind the sweet gravity on William Leroy’s countenance. Glee there was, yet, too, something else in the dark eyes laughing at her, something unconsciously warm and caressing.