She shot an arch glance at him. "It is for my Jack o' the Green," she murmured.
He ogled her and she blushed. But he had his misgivings when he saw that she was making a nosegay as big as his head. Present it was done, and she found a pin and advanced upon him.
"But you're not going to put that on me!" he cried. He had a boy's horror of the ridiculous.
She stopped, offended. "Oh," she said, "if you don't wish it?" and with lips pouting and tears ill-repressed, she turned away.
He sprang up. "My dear child, I do wish it!" he cried. "'Pon honour I do! But it's--it's immense."
She did not answer. Already she was some way up the slope. He ran after her, and told her he would wear it, begged her to pin it for him.
She stood looking at him languidly.
"Are you sure?" she said.
He vowed he was by all his gods, and still pouting she pinned the flowers to the breast of his coat. Now, if ever, he thought was his opportunity. Alas, the nosegay was so large, the cherry twigs of which it was composed were so stiff and sharp, he might as well have kissed her over a hedge! It was provoking in the last degree, and so were her smiling lips. And yet--he could not be angry with her. The very artlessness with which she had made up this huge cabbage and fixed it on him was one charm the more.
"There," she said, stepping back and viewing him with innocent satisfaction, "I'm sure a real lady could not have managed that better. It does not prick your chin, does it?"