I kissed her.
She looked at me startled, and ran ten paces away and sat down upon a rock.
"Upon my word!" she exclaimed, bursting into light laughter, "you have learned pretty manners abroad!"
"I am so glad you like them," said I, going up to her.
"But I don't like them at all," she retorted, shaking her head. "You remind me of a toy I used to play with years ago—a very pretty, harmless, inoffensive-looking toy, but which when touched unguardedly changed all of a sudden into a dreadful little fiend that flew right up into your face. Such a surprise is enough to make one's hair turn gray."
"At any rate, I have vindicated myself from the charge of being, 'pretty, harmless and inoffensive,' have I not? As for the gray hairs, I don't see one."
"I quite admired you last night," sighed Georgy, "you looked so interesting and innocent. Now—"
"Have I then suffered in your estimation?"
"I shall remember hereafter," she said with a delightful little laugh, "to whom I am talking. Now let us forget all about it. There are other things I want to talk about. I want to ask you how you like Helen."
"How I like Helen?" I did not fancy her question: I had never approved her tone regarding her cousin. "I think Miss Floyd very beautiful, and a very elegant girl besides."