Frank was silent, but he glanced up at Andrew, who was carefully rearranging his dress and brushing his cocked hat.
“I thought as much,” said the woman. “He’s bigger, and he ought to have known better than to get into such a shameful disturbance.—What’s that?—Lor’ bless me, no, my dear! Why should I take a mark for a mug of cold water? Put it in your pocket, my dear; you’ll want it to buy cakes and apples. I don’t want to be paid for doing a Christian act.”
“Then thank you very much,” said Frank warmly, offering his hand.
“Oh! if you will,” said the woman, “I don’t mind. It isn’t the first time I’ve shook hands with a gentleman.”
The woman turned, smiling with pleasure, as if to repeat the performance with Andrew Forbes; but as she caught sight of his frowning countenance her hand fell to her side, and she dropped the youth a formal curtsey.
“Thank you for helping my friend,” he said.
“You’re quite welkum, young man,” said the woman tartly. “And if you’ll take my advice, you won’t bring him into these parts again, where they’re doing nothing else but swash-buckling from morning to night. The broken heads I’ve seen this year is quite awful, and—”
Andrew Forbes did not wait to hear the rest, but passed his arm through that of Frank, and walked with him swiftly down the narrow lane toward the water-side.
“You’re not much hurt, are you?”
“Oh no. It was the heat and being squeezed so.”