“Yes,” she answered, meekly.
“Of course it is. I should just have jumped in. But they had to stop the train for you. And now they will make us pay a monstrous fine for travelling without a ticket.”
“Is that also my fault?” asked Ursula, more meekly still.
“No, it was Beauty’s. I’ve a great mind to deduct the money from her oats. Only that would make her do it over again.” He laughed once more, a jolly, self-satisfied laugh.
“But, oh, what should we have done,” said Ursula, presently, “if the station-master hadn’t listened to you?”
“Stopped the train myself, of course; and Santa Claus would have forgotten to send that man cigars.”
“Gerard, you wouldn’t have dared!”
Her innocent amazement drove him on.
“You have a poor idea of my desire to oblige you,” he made answer. “It would have cost me a pair of gloves, I suppose, and a lot of depositions at the end, and a fine. It would have been a great bore; I do not pretend to deny that.”