'Go and earn your spurs, Cousin Ridd,' she said: 'you are strong enough for anything. Which side is to have the benefit of your doughty arm?'
'Have I not told you, Ruth,' I answered, not being fond of this kind of talk, more suitable for Lizzie, 'that I do not mean to join either side, that is to say, until—'
'Until, as the common proverb goes, you know which way the cat will jump. Oh, John Ridd! Oh, John Ridd!'
'Nothing of the sort,' said I: 'what a hurry you are in! I am for the King of course.'
'But not enough to fight for him. Only enough to vote, I suppose, or drink his health, or shout for him.'
'I can't make you out to-day, Cousin Ruth; you are nearly as bad as Lizzie. You do not say any bitter things, but you seem to mean them.'
'No, cousin, think not so of me. It is far more likely that I say them, without meaning them.'
'Anyhow, it is not like you. And I know not what I can have done in any way, to vex you.'
'Dear me, nothing, Cousin Ridd; you never do anything to vex me.'
'Then I hope I shall do something now, Ruth, when I say good-bye. God knows if we ever shall meet again, Ruth: but I hope we may.'