“Hush, Fin! How can you?” said her sister.
“How can I? So,” said Fin, throwing her arms round her sister, and kissing her. “He’s head over heels in love with you. What fun! And I hate him for it like poison, because I want him myself.”
“Fin, dear, don’t, pray. Suppose any one heard you.”
“Don’t care if they did. Ugh! I’m as jealous as an Eastern sultana I shall stab you some night with a bodkin. But, I say, isn’t the solemn man fun?”
“I don’t see it,” said Tiny, glad of a diversion.
“I think he’s a regular little cad.”
“Slang again, Fin!”
“Yes, it’s because I’m cross and want my breakfast,” and she hurried her sister along.
“Ahem!” said Pratt, as soon as they were alone in the lane.
“Franky,” cried Trevor, clutching his friend by the arm, “did you ever see a sweeter girl in your life?”