“But aren’t you fond of Elisabeth Douglas?”
The little hand of Elisabeth tugged Peggy’s hand at that moment.
“Why, to be sure I am.”
“Well, and so am I; but I’m going to give her up—up to you. Isn’t that good of me?”
“Oh, oh, I say, Kitty, are you? May I love Peggy best? You won’t be cross to me afterwards if I love Peggy best?” said little Elisabeth.
“No, Elisabeth, I wish you to love Peggy best. There, Peggy, isn’t it kind of me?”
“Well, it sthrikes me like this, that ye can’t help yerself, an’ ye think ye may as well do it with a good grace; but if it gives ye any pleasure for me to say I’m obliged, why thin, I’ll say it. Now, what on earth are those ladies glaring at us for?”
“Of course they’re glaring at us for talking English; we’re not supposed to say anything except in French.”
“The Lord save us! What’ll I do? I don’t know a word of the tongue.”
“Oh you will soon.”