Each, on the present occasion, was carrying out his portion of the contract; that is to say, Verty and Redbud were quietly smiling at each other; Ralph and Fanny were exchanging repartees.
They came thus to the knoll which they had stopped upon in the forenoon.
The fine kite—tied to a root, as we have said—was hovering far up among the clouds, swaying and fluttering its streamers in the wind: the various colors of the paper, and the flowers almost wholly indiscernible, so high had it ascended.
"Look!" said Fanny, "there it is up among the swallows, which are flying around it as if they never saw a kite before."
"Female swallows, doubtless," observed Ralph, carelessly.
"Female? Pray, why?"
"Because they have so much curiosity; see, you have made me utter what is not common with me."
"What, sir?"
"A bad witticism."
Fanny laughed, and replied, gazing at the kite: