"In pity say no more about it!" said Winifred, colouring again, but with intense annoyance at herself for having drawn forth the remark.
"Well, Miss Lloyd, pardon me; I am but a plain fellow in my way, and your good papa understands me better than you do."
"And likes you better," said she, smiling.
"I am sorry to be compelled to admit that such is the case; but remember the maxim of Henry IV. of France."
"Why--the roses please--what was it?"
"There are more flies caught by one spoonful of honey than by ten tuns of vinegar."
"Thanks, very much, for the maxim," replied Winifred, proudly and petulantly; "but I hope I am not quite of the nature of vinegar, and I don't wish to catch flies or anything else."
It was now Sir Watkins' turn to blush, which he did furiously, for her proud little ways perplexed him; but she added, with a laugh,
"The base of the next pillar requires our attention, and then I think the decorations are ended. Do let the cobwebs alone with your whip, and assist me, if you would please me."
"There is not in all the world a girl I would do more to please," said Sir Watkins, earnestly, his blue eyes lighting up with honest enthusiasm as he spoke in a low and earnest tone, "and I know that there is not in all England another girl like you, Winifred: you quite distance them all, and it is more than I can understand how it comes to pass that those who--who--don't love you--"