"Then Hannah—or Anna—Maria, would your mother give us each a glass of cider, think you?"
"Should you like some?" inquired A. M., as she sought Roscoria's face again.
"Dearly, my lass."
Anna Maria showed she could move; she positively darted home, to return much slower, and with a portentous gravity of demeanor, bearing in tremulous hands one glass of cider held very tight. But to whom to give it? There lies a sad struggle for her between duty and inclination. She glanced yearningly at Roscoria's dark head, propped up expectantly on elbow, then she measured Tregurtha's noble length stretched out beside his friend. Slowly, reluctantly, but overpoweringly came the truth upon her youthful mind: Tregurtha was the taller, ergo, in her infant logic, he—the elder—must the first be served. Without waiting an instant, wee Hebe gave the Cornishman his due, and fled away again. Once more she came, more careful even than before; and, with a nascent spark of coquetry in those rustic eyes, she smiled and said: "And this, sir, is for you!"
"Here's your health, my bonny lass!" cried Louis, raising the glass to his lips. "Long may those cheeks of yours retain their roses, and may you ever be as able to look a decent man in the face!" Anna Maria, not quite comprehending this ovation, turned so earnestly serious, and so riveted her intent gaze on the handsome countenance of Louis, that the unfortunate young man could stand fire no longer, and ended his refreshing drink by the most ignominious fit of choking.
"You had better go, my dear," interposed Tregurtha hastily, slipping a shilling into the child's hand; "he isn't used to so much admiration."
Anna Maria reluctantly departed, with many a backward glance at Louis, who, when the firm young feet had borne his small admirer solidly away, threw out his arms with a groan of intense relief and said:
"By Heaven, Tregurtha, there is great power in the human eye! I feel completely mesmerized."
"What a thing it is to be good-looking!" observed Tregurtha, lighting a cigar. "Now, I wonder how stands the heart of this young Adonis? Has he yet learnt that the proper study of mankind is woman?"
Roscoria laughed, tumbled down into the soft grass again, and meditatively responded: