“Indeed I will, and be as formal as you please, and treat you like a young lady, and you’ll never be ‘wicked little Vi’ any more.”
She was laughing as she leaned back, and he could see her small teeth, and he bethought him that she was looking really quite lovely; so with two fingers he picked up her little hand again, as it lay at her side, and he said—
“And we are always to be good friends, you know—great friends; and although you’ve no more dolls to mend, I’ll still be of use. I’m going to the bar, and I’ll manage all your law suits, if you let me; and when you are going to be married, I’ll draw your settlements, and you are to have me always for your counsel.”
She was still smiling, but said nothing, and looked wonderfully pretty, with the old gray silk hood wrapped all about her, so that sober old William was on the very point of kissing the slender hand he held in his. But a new feeling of shyness prevented, and he only shook her hand gently once more, and laid it by her side again, as you replace some precious thing you have been admiring where you found it.
“And you really think we may be happy about dear old grannie again?” she said.
The sound of Winnie’s footsteps was heard approaching.
“Yes; certainly. I’ll try to get a word with Doctor Drake. I can’t imagine anything serious. Won’t you come to the drawing-room now?”
“No; not to-night; not while those people are there. I was so wretched about dear grannie, I could not bear to go in at first; and now it would be odd, I think, going down when tea is over.”
“As if I had brought you down from the nursery, as I often did, Vi, on my back. Well, old Winnie, have you got it?”
“Here, I think, Master William,” answered Winnie.