“Bring hither the lantern, Fancy: the spade can bide.”
Geoffrey and Enoch then went towards the house, leaving Shiner and Fancy standing side by side on the garden-plot.
“Allow me,” said Shiner, stooping for the lantern and seizing it at the same time with Fancy.
“I can carry it,” said Fancy, religiously repressing all inclination to trifle. She had thoroughly considered that subject after the tearful explanation of the bird-catching adventure to Dick, and had decided that it would be dishonest in her, as an engaged young woman, to trifle with men’s eyes and hands any more. Finding that Shiner still retained his hold of the lantern, she relinquished it, and he, having found her retaining it, also let go. The lantern fell, and was extinguished. Fancy moved on.
“Where is the path?” said Mr. Shiner.
“Here,” said Fancy. “Your eyes will get used to the dark in a minute or two.”
“Till that time will ye lend me your hand?” Fancy gave him the extreme tips of her fingers, and they stepped from the plot into the path.
“You don’t accept attentions very freely.”
“It depends upon who offers them.”
“A fellow like me, for instance.” A dead silence.