“We don’t send you flowers; we just lay our glorious garden at your feet,” said Jane.
“As to sweets and poems and presents, what’s that? Look at us; you’ve got us here,” Florimel summed up conclusively.
“We think you have all Vineclad, Mrs. Garden,” said Audrey. “We girls are simply crazy over you; crazy, that’s all!”
“Quite enough,” interposed Win heartily, tired of this sort of girlish sentimentality. “You all give Mrs. Garden treacle out of a huge spoon, the way Mrs. Squeers fed it to the boys in the school. I’ll walk with you, Audrey, if you’re going home, as I see you’re making ready to do. I’ve an errand past your house.”
“Got it up after you knew Audrey was to be here, Win?” asked Florimel.
“It’s to fetch my shoes, which I left to be straightened by the shoemaker last week, Miss,” said Win severely. “Not that it would not be to my credit if I did provide myself with a reason for walking with Audrey.”
“With any of us, Win,” said Audrey, almost too unconsciously to be unconscious. “Of course the shoes will wait.”
Win feigned not to hear this suggestion; he departed with the girls, to turn off with Audrey at her corner.
Mark accepted with alacrity an invitation to stay to tea.
“I wonder if Audrey acts like that just to make Win want to go all the more? Couldn’t make me believe she’s plain stupid! Isn’t it fun to watch ’em? When I’m older, if there’s a boy in Vineclad—they’re not too plenty, not older ones—I’m going to take in everything that comes my way,” announced Florimel, cramming a round tea cake into her mouth in two bites to free her hands for carrying out teacups.