“Jim Patterson asked me to marry him when I asked him to tell me how much seven and two made in my arithmetic lesson.”
Cyril Rose and his cousin Martha looked at each other.
“Arnold Carruth asked me, too, when a great big wasp flew on my arm and frightened me.”
Cyril and Martha continued to look. The little, sweet, uncertain voice went on.
“And Johnny Trumbull asked me when I 'most fell down on the sidewalk; and Lee Westminster asked me when I wasn't doing anything, and so did Bubby Harvey.”
“What did you tell them?” asked Miss Martha, in a faint voice.
“I told them I didn't know.”
“You had better have the child go to bed now,” said Cyril. “Good night, little Lucy. Always tell father everything.”
“Yes, father,” said little Lucy, and was kissed, and went away with Martha.
When Martha returned, her cousin looked at her severely. He was a fair, gentle-looking man, and severity was impressive when he assumed it.