“To me? Why, he didn’t do anything of the sort!”
“Lily Deacon!” cried Dolly, “you know very well he did! Any why are you blushing?”
“I’m not blushing. I don’t know him. How could that be? I-I only—”
“You only what?”
“Why, nothing!”
“Lily, you’re concealing something!” cried Annie Lee.
“Oh, I’m not. Don’t be so silly. It isn’t anything at all. Only last Thursday, when I was coming home from Mrs. McTavish’s I happened to take a short cut through the field there, and that hateful dog that belongs to Mr. Jenkins started to run after me, barking and growling the way he always does. I got over the stile, but he crawled under the fence, and followed me again. And I started to run, and he ran after me, and jumped up at me and frightened me to death. And Mr. Sheridan happened to be coming through the field. And he caught the dog, and told me I was a silly to run. And that’s all.”
“My dear!” breathed Dolly, “and is that all he said?”
“Oh, he just asked me if I was afraid of dogs, and I said only of some. And he said he liked them, they were so intelligent. And—and then I said I hated cats, and he said he did too; and asked me if I liked horses—”
“How long did this keep up?” inquired Annie Lee.