"I don't think you should take her so far," said Mrs. Cayhill, looking up from her book with her kindly smile. "She has never been used to walking and is easily tired—aren't you, my pet?"
"Yes, and then she can't get up the next morning," said Johanna, mildly dogmatic, considering the following sentence of her letter.
Gradually it broke upon Maurice that Ephie had been making use of his name. His consternation at the discovery was such that he changed colour. The others, however, were both too engrossed to notice it. Ephie grew scarlet, but continued to rattle on, covering his silence.
"Well, perhaps to-day it was a little too far," she admitted. "But mummy, I won't have you say I'm not strong. Why, Herr Becker is always telling me how full my tone is getting. Yes indeed. And look at my muscle."
She turned back the loose sleeve of her blouse, baring almost the whole of her rounded arm; then, folding it sharply to her, she invited one after another to test its firmness.
"Quite a prize-fighter, I declare!" laughed Mrs. Cayhill, at the same time drawing her little daughter to her, to kiss her. But Johanna frowned, and told Ephie to put down her sleeve at once; there was something in the childish action that offended the elder sister, she did not know why. But Maurice had first to lay two of his fingers on the soft skin, and then to help her to button the cuff.
When, soon after this, he took his leave, Ephie went out of the room with him. In the dark passage, she caught at his hand.
"Morry, you mustn't tell tales on me," she whispered; and added pettishly: "Why ever did you just come to-night?"
He tried to see her face. "What is it all about, Ephie?" he asked. "Then it WAS you, I saw, in the NONNE—by the weir?"
"Me? In the NONNE!" She was genuinely surprised. "You saw me?"