“Well, I’ve got a grandmother and seven old maid aunts, and they never asked me to do a thing in their lives. They wait on me. They’d do anything for me.”
“You ought to be ashamed of yourself. Boys were made to wait on girls.”
“They were not. I never heard such rot.”
Lee considered a moment. He was quite as aristocratic as any Southerner; there was no doubt of that. But he had been badly brought up. Her duty was plain.
“You’d be just perfect if you thought girls were more important than yourself,” she said wheedlingly.
“I’ll never do that,” he replied stoutly.
“Then we can’t be friends!”
“Oh, I say! Don’t rot like that. I won’t give you something I’ve got in my pockets, if you do.”
Lee glanced swiftly at his pockets. They bulged. “Well, I won’t any more to-day,” she said sweetly. “What have you got for me? You are a nice boy.”
He produced an orange and a large red apple, and offered them diffidently.