Fanny burst into laughter.
"Twenty years!" she cried.
"Well?" said Ralph.
"I'm only seventeen, sir."
"Seventeen?"
"Yes, sir."
"Seventeen—three from seventeen," said Ralph, thoughtfully calculating on his fingers, "ah! yes! you are right—you have been in love with me but fourteen years. Yes! yes! you have reason to say, as you did, that it was not twenty years—quite."
After which speech, which was delivered in an innocent tone, Mr. Ralph scratched his chin.
Fanny stood for a moment horrified at the meaning given to her exclamation—then colored—then cried "Humph!"—then burst into laughter. The party joined in it.
"Well, well," said the bright girl, whose dancing eyes were full of pleasure, "don't let us get to flirting to-day."