'Then I'll break the door, for ye shall come through,' exclaimed Milly, kicking the stout paling with her ponderous boot.
'Purr it, purr it, purr it!' cried the lass in the red petticoat with a grin.
'Do you know who this lady is?' cried Milly, suddenly.
'She is a prettier lass than thou,' answered Beauty.
'She's my cousin Maud—Miss Ruthyn of Knowl—and she's a deal richer than the Queen; and the Governor's taking care of her; and he'll make old Pegtop bring you to reason.'
The girl eyed me with a sulky listlessness, a little inquisitively, I thought.
'See if he don't,' threatened Milly.
'You positively must come,' I said, drawing her away with me.
'Well, shall we come in?' cried Milly, trying a last summons.
'You'll not come in that much,' she answered, surlily, measuring an infinitesimal distance on her finger with her thumb, which she pinched against it, the gesture ending with a snap of defiance, and a smile that showed her fine teeth.