"You are mistaken! But come, sit by me: I'm just in the mood to talk."
"No! I don't think I will."
"Pray do."
"No," said Fanny, shaking her head coquettishly, "I'll stand while your lordship discourses."
"You positively shan't!"
And with these words, the young man grasped Miss Fanny's long streaming hair-ribbon, and gently drew it toward him, laughing.
Fanny cried out. Ralph laughed more than ever.
There was but one alternative left for the young girl. She must either see her elegantly bound up raven locks deprived of their confining ribbon, and so fall in wild disorder, or she must obey the command of the enemy, and sit quietly beside him. True, there was the third course of becoming angry, and raising her head with dignified hauteur. But this course had its objections—it would not do to quarrel with her cousin and former playmate immediately upon his return; and again the movement of the head, which we have indicated, would have been attended by consequences exceedingly disastrous.
Therefore, as Ralph continued to draw toward him gently the scarlet ribbon, with many smiles and admiring glances, Miss Fanny gradually approached the seat, and finally sat down.
"There, sir!" she said, pouting, "I hope you are satisfied!"