Jeanette appeared wilful and self-centered, with no strong affection for any one save herself. She ordinarily went her own way without consideration for any one else and without interference. If her father ever objected to what she said or did, Cecil had no knowledge of it.
He was thinking of Jeanette as he lay outstretched on the grass, his shoulder aching from the bruise he had just received, and spiritually wounded by her unkind speech.
To his surprise he glanced up at this moment to find her standing above him.
She wore a less self-confident expression than usual. Her gray-blue eyes were troubled, her lips less firm.
"I am sorry, Cecil, I was rude and unfair to you. If you had no physical courage you would not have been so quick to save Via from being hurt at some danger to yourself."
Jeanette's tones were sufficiently loud to be heard by the entire group. Blushing furiously over his fair skin until the color mounted to the roots of his hair, Cecil got quickly to his feet, notwithstanding the pain his sudden movement induced.
He was more annoyed with Jeanette at present than he had been from her original speech. She was by her apology again calling the attention of the others to him. If she had any understanding of a fellow she would know he would hate the situation.
"Don't talk so loud, Jeanette, and for goodness sake don't speak of my being in danger if the branch of a tree happened to fall on me. I'm not such a weakling as all that! Olivia is a little girl and might have been hurt."
Cecil spoke in a low voice and yet Jeanette was angry. She had brought herself to apologize to him as an act of duty, and assuredly her apology was not being received in a spirit that made the effort worth while.
"Why did so many things go wrong with her these days?" Jeanette asked herself.