“A rag to your back, indeed,” said Farebrother, with bold admiration. “Those white muslin things you wear are the prettiest gowns I ever saw at Newport.”
Letty smiled rapturously. The breakfast was delightful to two persons, Letty Corbin and Tom Farebrother. After it was over they went out on the lawn, and watched the long, soft swell of the summer sea breaking at their feet, and the gay hydrangeas nodding their pretty heads gravely in the sunshine. And in a moment or two Sir Archy came up and joined them. Farebrother held his ground stoutly; he always held it stoutly and pleasantly as well, and the three had such a jolly time that the correct young ladies who used their broad a’s so carefully, and the correct young gentlemen in London-made morning clothes, stared at such evident enjoyment. But it was a respectful stare, and even Letty’s ramshackly carriage was regarded with toleration when it rattled up. Sir Archy, however, asked permission to drive her back in his dog-cart, which Letty at once agreed to, much to Tom Farebrother’s frankly expressed disgust.
“There you go,” he growled in her ear. “Just like the rest; the fellow has a handle to his name and that’s enough.”
“Why didn’t you offer to drive me home yourself?” answered Letty, with equally frank coquetry, bending her eyes upon him with a challenge in their hazel depths.
“By George, why didn’t I?” was Farebrother’s whispered reply, as he handed her over to Sir Archy.
Miss Corbin’s exit was much more imposing than her arrival, as she drove off, sitting up straight and slim, in Sir Archy’s dog-cart.
“Do you know,” said he, as they spun along the freshly watered drive in the soft August afternoon, “that you are the first American I have seen yet? All of the young ladies that I see here are tolerably fair copies of the young ladies I meet in London drawing-rooms; but you are really what I fancied an American girl to be.”
“Thank you,” answered Letty, dubiously. “But I daresay I am rather better behaved than you expected to find me.”
“Not at all,” answered Sir Archy, with energy.
This was a good beginning for an acquaintance, and when Letty got home she could not quite decide which she liked the better, Tom Farebrother or this sturdy, sensible English cousin.