"Oh, thank you!" cry I, hurriedly, reddening—I do not quite know why—and with that same sort of sneaky feeling, as if the boys were laughing; "I am not one much apt to catch cold—none of us are—but I will, if you like."
So saying, I drew it round my shoulders. Then he goes, in a minute, without a second's lingering, back to the gravel-walk, to his wicker-chair, to grave, dry talk, to the friend of his infancy! I have an uncomfortable feeling that there is a silent and hidden laugh among the family.
"Barbara, my treasure!" says Algy, presently, in a mocking voice, "might I be allowed to offer you our umbrella, and a pair of goloshes to defend you from the evening dews?"
"Hush!" cries Barbara, gently pushing him away, and stretching out her hand to me. She is the only one that understands. (Oh, why, why did I ever laugh at him with them? What is there to laugh at in him?)
"My poor Barbara!" continues Algy, in a tone of affected solicitude. "If you had not a tender brother to look after you, your young limbs might be cramped with rheumatism, and twitched with palsy, before any one would think of bringing you a cloak."
"Wait a bit!" say I, recovering my good-humor with an effort, reflecting that it is no use to be vexed—that they mean nothing—and that, lastly, I have brought it on myself!
"Wait for what?" asks Barbara, laughing. "Till Toothless Jack has grown used to his new teeth?"
"By-the-by," cries Bobby, eagerly, "that was since you went away, Nancy: he has set up a stock of new teeth—beauties—like Orient pearl—he wore them in church last Sunday for the first time. We tell Barbara that he has bought them on purpose to propose in. Now, do not you think it looks promising?"
"We do not mean, however," says Algy, lighting a cigar, "to let Barbara go cheap! Now that we have disposed of you so advantageously, we are beginning to be rather ambitious even for Tou Tou."
"We think," says Bobby, giving a friendly but severe pull to our youngest sister's outspread yellow locks, "that Tou Tou would adorn the Church. Bishops have mostly thin legs, so it is to be presumed that they admire them: we destine Tou Tou for a bishop's lady!"