Adelaide's slight cast became an unmistakable squint; the Fairbairn girls fluttered, half frightened at the chance of a fracas; Alick looked irresolute; Edgar looked haughty and displeased; Leam tragic and proud, partly bewildered, partly distressed.
Then Edgar cut the whole thing short by taking her away in silence, but like a whirlwind, saying, when half over the ground and well out of hearing, "What have I done to you, Miss Dundas, that you should try to throw me over like that?"
"You laughed at me," said Leam.
"Laughed at you? You are dreaming."
"You did," she persisted.
"Pardon me: I laughed because my little friend Adelaide was so cross at your skating. It was fun to see her so angry."
"I saw no fun in it," Leam returned. "I only saw that she was angry with me, and impertinent, and that then you laughed at me."
"I swear to you I did not," cried Edgar earnestly. "Will you believe me? Tell me, Miss Dundas, that you exonerate me from such a charge. Tell me that you are sure I did not laugh at you."
Leam looked at him with her large luminous eyes serious, questioning. "If you say so, I must believe you," she answered slowly, "but I thought you did."
"If you could read my heart, you would know I did not," he said emphatically.