Her face was so bright that the boy's face brightened as he looked at it.
"I hope it is what I was thinking of," he said; "but I didn't dare—"
"Mamma," cried Hildegarde.
He nodded in delight, colouring with pleasure.
"She is just the person."
"Of course she is; but will she?"
"Of course she will. I am sure of it. Your uncle shall come to tea some evening, and you shall stay at home. I will go away to write letters, and then—oh, you see, Jack, no one can resist mamma."
"What a good fellow you are, Hildegarde! Oh, I beg your pardon!"
"Never mind!" cried Hildegarde merrily. "I did climb the tree, you know. And now, come along. I must take my beauty, my love, my moonlight rapture, up to his death."