"Don't run away, Gwennie, I won't hurt you. Hugh says I am not to strike you, only just to let you know our family is as good as yours."
"As good as ours!" said Gwennie. "Oh no, I don't think so, 'cause I've got an uncle who preaches in a church, and makes lovely sermons."
"Oh! That's nothing—my father did just the same."
"Then we're just as good as each other; so don't you think, Ronnie,—" and here a wistful look came into the big blue eyes—"you and me might be friends?"
Ronnie hesitated. "I should like to be," said the young traitor, "only I kissed the book, you know."
More wonderment still shone in Gwennie's eyes. "What's that got to do with it?" she inquired.
"I don't quite know, only that is how we all promised to fight in the Wars of the Roses."
"I don't think," said Gwennie, slowly and reverently, "that the angels up in Heaven would like to see us fighting."
This was a new idea to Ronnie, but he was not to be vanquished in this way.
"Oh, I'm sure they wouldn't mind!" said he. "Why, the Israelites in the Bible slew a thousand of their enemies with the jawbone of a donkey." Ronnie, as will be seen, was wont to be somewhat mixed in his statements.