“Well, what?”
“Miss Jinny, I seed that than young gemman. Lan' sakes, he ain' look like er Yankee.”
“Ned,” said Virginia, sternly, “do you want to go back to cooking?”
He quailed. “Oh, no'm—Lan' sakes, no'm. I didn't mean nuthin'.”
She turned, frowned, and bit her lip. Around the corner of the veranda she ran into her cousin. He, too, was booted and spurred. He reached out, boyishly, to catch her in his arms. But she drew back from his grasp.
“Why, Jinny,” he cried, “what's the matter?”
“Nothing, Max.” She often called him so, his middle name being Maxwell. “But you have no right to do that.”
“To do what?” said Clarence, making a face.
“You know,” answered Virginia, curtly. “Where's Aunt Lillian?”
“Why haven't I the right?” he asked, ignoring the inquiry.