“Oh, Lizzie!”
And Little Jessie kissed Mr. W——, too, and cried while she did it, and no doubt Mrs. Emory would have willingly done the same if it would have done him any good and been within the bounds of propriety.
Mr. Legare said in his happy way:
“Bless my soul, Mr. W——, you seem to have turned the folks all topsy-turvy, but I don’t blame you. The news is gloriously good. I always liked that girl. And, mark me, she’ll turn out to be something more than a bindery girl yet.”
“You just bet she will,” cried Frank. “If I knew where to find her I’d go to Boston to-night.”
“What for, Frank?” asked his sister, now completely herself again.
“To tell her you kissed Mr. W—— right before us all,” said Frank, determined to get even with Lizzie now if he could.
“You might tell her, too, while you were about it, that I was only sorry he didn’t kiss me back,” said Lizzie, so saucily that the laugh was all on her side.
“But really, Mr. W——,” she added, “you must think I was very bold. But, to tell the truth, I thought at first you had come to tell us she was dead, and when I heard you say she was safe I was so glad that I really didn’t know what I was doing.”
“Oh, that is a likely story, when you were cool enough to notice that he didn’t kiss you back again,” cried Frank.