"Well, what's YOUR first name?"
"Not as pretty as yours, I'm afraid. It's Frank."
"No it ain't, it's Francis! You reckon to be Sir Francis some day," she
said gravely. "You can't play any Frank off on me. You wouldn't do it on
HER," she added, indicating Louise with her elbow.
A momentous silence followed. The particular form that Minty's vulgarity
had taken had not been anticipated by the two other women. They had,
not unreasonably, expected some original audacity or gaucherie from the
blacksmith's daughter, which might astonish yet amuse their guest, and
condone for the situation forced upon them. But they were not prepared
for a playfulness that involved themselves in a ridiculous indiscretion.
Mrs. Bradley's eyes sought her husband's meaningly; Louise's pretty
mouth hardened. Luckily the cheerful cause of it suddenly jumped up
from the table, and saying that the stranger was starving, insisted upon
bringing a dish from the other side and helping him herself plentifully.
Mainwaring rose gallantly to take the dish from her hand, a slight
scuffle ensued which ended in the young man being forced down in his
chair by the pressure of Minty's strong plump hand on his shoulder.
Pages:
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48