“Half as handsome,” repeated master in a kind of innocent, wondering way. “Do you really think you are not as good-looking as Stanna?”
“I don’t think it,” said mistress almost impatiently, “I know it.”
Master stared at her in amazement.
Mistress burst out laughing. “I really believe, you dear, foolish man, that you think I eclipse Stanna.”
“I don’t think it, I know it,” he said decidedly.
“The boys in the street don’t stare after me as they do after Stanna,” she said.
“That rejoices me,” he said gravely. “I shouldn’t care to have them staring at you.”
Mistress broke into a delighted peal of laughter, and I think was about to embrace him, but she wheeled round and held out her arms to young George who was entering the room, followed by Ellen and Beanie.
Beanie, in spite of a warm dog sweater he had on, was shivering with cold and held his breast-bone so close to the fire, that Gringo said gravely, “I smell you scorching, Beans.”
He moved back a bit, and I said, “How you do feel the cold.”