“I am not running away,” cried Rodie, red with wrath and shame.
“You shall not,” cried Elsie, holding him with a vigorous young grip, almost as strong as his own, out of which he was still attempting to wriggle, when Frank came up, all smiling and beaming.
“Johnny Wemyss has found a new beast,” he reported with a little excitement. “It is not in all the books, there has been none discovered like it. You should see his eyes just jumping out of his head.”
Elsie’s eyes gave a jump too; a warm flush ran over her face. Unconsciously, she held her head high.
“Oh,” she said, softly, “I am not surprised! I am not surprised!”
At this Frank looked at her half alarmed, half suspicious, not quite easy in his mind, why she should take so much interest in Johnny. But after all, he was only Johnny, a fellow wrapped up in “beasts,” and no competitor for anybody’s favour.
Meanwhile, Rodie had twisted his elbow out of Elsie’s hold, who had too much respect for appearances to continue the struggle before strangers.
“I’m away to see it,” cried Rodie. “You’ll come when you are ready,” and off he rushed like a wild deer, with a sulky nod at Frank.
“It appears I have offended Rodie without meaning it,” said Frank, taking the wise way of forestalling any reproach. “I hope he has not prejudiced you against me, Miss Elsie; for all I said that vexed him, was only that I was coming to ask your father’s advice, and I have always heard that everybody asks the minister’s advice. May I walk with you, and tell you about it? I don’t know what he thought I meant.”
“So far as I understood,” said Elsie, “he thought you wanted to make my father betray some poor bodies that trusted in him.” Elsie, too, thought it was wiser to forestall any other statement. But she put forth this bold statement with a high colour and a quaking heart.