“Well, come in to tea, then,” said Polly, laughing. “Perhaps you will stay, and anyhow we are glad to have you for a little. Children, please don’t stare so hard.”
“I don’t mind,” said David. “They may stare if it pleases them; I rather like it.”
“Like being stared at!” repeated Firefly, whose own sensitive little nature resented the most transient glance.
“Yes,” responded David, calmly; “it shows that I’m admired; and I know that I’m a very handsome boy.”
So he was, with dark eyes like a gipsy, and a splendid upright figure and bearing. Far from being the barbarian of Polly’s imagination, he had some of the airs and graces of a born aristocrat. His calm remarks and utter coolness astonished the little Maybrights, who rather shrank away from him, and left him altogether to Polly’s patronage.
At this moment Helen and the young Australian girl came down together. David instantly trotted up to his sister.
“She thinks that perhaps we’ll stay, Flower,” pointing with his finger at Polly, “and in that case I needn’t keep up my company manners, need I?”
“But you must behave well, David,” responded Flower, “or the English nation will fancy we are not civilized.”
She smiled in a lovely languid way at her brother, and looked round with calm indifference at the boys and girls who pressed close to her.
“Come and have tea,” said Helen.