Instead, his eyes were dancing with enjoyment, and when he met her look, he laughed outright. Then he said deliberately, “I think I know you well enough now to call you Margie.”
[CHAPTER V.]
“A creature not too bright or good
For human nature’s daily food;
For transient sorrows, simple wiles,
Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears and smiles.”
“Come out for a boat-ride,” Robert called to Meg, who was hemming kitchen towels on her rose-embowered porch. She had seen him between the leaves, as he came striding up the walk, but gave a very natural start of surprise when he spoke. “I’m not deaf,” was her rejoinder, as she kept on with her sewing.
“Neither am I dumb,” retorted Robert, turning around and starting down the path.
Meg flung the towel from her, scattered thread, thimble and scissors in every direction as she flew down the steps and overtook him. “What was your first remark?” she asked demurely.
He looked down at her, and tried to preserve his dignity, but the eyes which met his were so innocent and wide opened, the little white face so alluring, that his anger melted, and he said, “I asked you to go boating.”