“Don’t make any mistake,” she cautioned him, searching his face with her eyes; “this isn’t to be any little-girl affair. Little Sister doesn’t want any kind, elegant, supercilious encouragement from Big Sister’s young man. It’s got to be a real flirtation—devotion no end, and ten times as much as ever Pauline could get out of you—and you’ve got to keep your end ’way—’—’way up!”
The young man smiled.
“I’ll keep my end up,” he said; “but are you certain that you can keep yours up?”
“Well, I think so,” replied Miss Flossy. “Pauline will raise an awful row; but if she goes too far, I’ll tell my age, and hers, too.”
Mr. Morpeth looked in Miss Flossy’s calm face. Then he extended his hand once more.
“It’s a bargain, so far as I’m concerned,” he said.
This time a soft and small hand met his with a firm, friendly, honest pressure.
“And I’ll refuse you,” said Miss Flossy.
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