“Ah, my dear, there are still a few men of sense in the world, who would rather get a good woman as companion than a pretty face. Good-bye, my dear.”
Though Jeremy was on this occasion disappointed of seeing Eva, on the following morning he was so fortunate as to meet her and her sister walking on the beach. But when he got into her gracious presence he found somehow that he had very little to say; and the walk would, to tell the truth, have been rather dull, if it had not occasionally been enlivened by flashes of Florence’s caustic wit.
On the next day, however, he returned to the charge with several hundredweight of the roots of a certain flower which Eva had expressed a desire to possess. And so it went on till at last his shyness wore off a little, and they grew very good friends.
Of course all this did not escape Florence’s sharp eyes, and one day, just after Jeremy had paid her sister a lumbering compliment and departed, she summarised her observations thus:
“That moon-calf is falling in love with you, Eva.”
“Nonsense, Florence! and why should you call him a moon-calf? It is not nice to talk of people so.”
“Well, if you can find a better definition, I am willing to adopt it.”
“I think that he is an honest gentleman-like boy; and even if he were falling in love with me, I do not think there would be anything to be ashamed of—there!”
“Dear me, what a fuss we are in! Do you know, I shall soon begin to think that you are falling in love with the ‘honest gentleman-like boy’—yes, that is a better title than moon-calf, though not so nervous.”
Here Eva marched off in a huff.