"Oh. I thought them fine."
"And all men think you fine, I fear—from that soldier who pricked your name on his powder-horn at Mayfield fort to Bully Jock Gallopaway of the Border Horse at Caughnawaga, and our own little Jack-boots in the orchard yonder."
"Only Jack Drogue dissents," she murmured, bending over her knitting.
At that I caught her white hand and kissed it; and she blushed and sat smiling in absent fashion at the water, while I retained it.
"You use me sans façon," she murmured at last. "Do you use other women so?"
Now, I had used some few maids as wilfully, but none worse, yet had no mind to admit it, nor yet to lie.
"You ask me questions," said I, "but answer none o' mine."
At that her gay smile broke again. "What a very boy," quoth she, "to be Laird o' Northesk! For it is cat's-cradle talk between us two, and give and take to no advancement. Will you tell me, my lord, if it gives you pleasure to touch my lips?"
"Yes," said I. "Does it please you, too?"
"I wonder," says she, and was laughing again out of half-shy eyes at me.