I bent down to kiss her, but she fenced away and drew back smiling.
I dropped her hand, hurt.
"Jack," and her tone tried to compensate me, "behave now—everybody is looking." Then she added louder, "Have you really grown into this handsome chap—and no lameness any more?"
"Tut—tut," broke in Aunt Lucretia, half irritated, "you two make me tired. Of course he has—you have both grown wonderfully up to your pedigree—I always said so—nothing strange in that. And as you are both grown now," she added patronizingly and with the old return of authority, "I intend to marry you to each other before Christmas—see if I don't."
I blushed and Eloise smiled—a trace of the old fun-loving tease breaking across the corners of her mouth. Her beautiful clear blue-hazel eyes smiled up into mine, full of the old fun and daring.
I bent over her. "Eloise, aren't you really going to kiss me?"
"It is unsanitary, Jack,—and—" she glanced at Aunt Lucretia—"bad form and—"
I turned, hurt, and shook hands with old Thomas, the driver.
"Mighty glad to see you back home, Marse Jack, mighty glad!" said he.
I looked closely at his horses, with that pretended admiration that I knew would please him, in order to hide my chagrin. There was embarrassment in it too, for I knew I was under inspection from the eyes of Eloise.