Genie made a quick movement that whirled her around, with her cap flying off, and then she got to her knees. Thus, with face disclosed and blazing eyes, and curls no boy ever had, she presented a vastly different aspect.
“I’m no boy! I—I’m a—a lady!” she declared, with angry, trembling voice of outraged dignity.
“What!” gasped the lad. Then, in his amaze and horror, he dropped the pan of milk, that splashed all over, nearly drowning the fire.
“Hello! What’s the trouble?” asked Adam, genially, appearing from the oaks.
“I—I—spilled the milk—mother sent,” he replied, in confusion.
“That’s too bad! No wonder, such a lot of milk!... What’s your name?”
“It’s Eugene—sir—Eugene Blair.”
“Well, that’s queer—Eugene Blair.... My name’s Wansfell, and I’m glad to meet you,” said Adam, offering his hand. “Now let me make you acquainted with Miss Eugenie Linwood.”
The only acknowledgment Genie gave to her first introduction was a slow sinking down behind the pack. Her expression delighted Adam. As for the young man—he appeared to be about twenty years old—he was overcome with embarrassment.
“Glad to—to know you Miss—Miss Linwood,” he gulped. “Please ex-excuse me. Mother never said—there was a—a girl.... And you looked so—I took you for a boy.”