Betty sighed. "'Twas different then, sir," she murmured, hanging her head, and tracing a pattern on the sward with the point of her toe.
"Then you would choose to leave me, would you?"
"And I didn't know that you belonged to the family," she continued, evading the question, "or I should not have made so free, sir. And besides, asking your pardon, you told me that you had seen enough of women to last you your life, sir. You know you did."
"Oh, d----n!" Tom cried. The reminder was not welcome.
Betty recoiled virtuously. "There, sir," she cried, "now I know what you think of me! If I were a lady, you'd not have said that to me, I'll be bound. Swearing, indeed? For shame, sir! But I'm for home, and none too soon!"
"It's yes, yes, sir, by your leave," she retorted. "I'm none such a fool as you'd make me. That shows me what you think of me."
And turning with an offended air, she began to retrace her steps. Tom called to her, but fruitlessly. She did not answer nor pause. He had to follow her, feeling small and smaller. A little farther, and they would be again within sight of the house.
The track was narrow, the fern on each side grew waist high; he could not intercept her without actual violence. At length, "See here, child," he said humbly, "if you'll turn and chat a bit, I'll persuade you it was not meant. I'll treat you every bit as if you were a lady. I swear I will!"
"I don't know," she cried. "I don't know that I can trust you." But she went more slowly.
"'Pon honour I will," he protested. "I swear I will!"
She stopped at that, and turned to him. "You will?" she said doubtfully. "You really will? Then will you please----" with a charming shyness, "pick me a nosegay to put in my tucker, as my lady's beaux used to do? I should like to feel like a lady for once," she continued eagerly. "'Twould be such a frolic as you gentlefolk have, sir, when you pretend to be poor milk-maids and make syllabub, and will not have a bandbox or a hoop-petticoat near you!"
"Your ladyship shall have a nosegay," Tom answered gaily. "But I must first see the colour of your eyes that I may match them."
She clapped her hands in a rapture. "Oh, how you act, to be sure!" she cried. "'Tis too charming. And for my eyes, sir, it's no more than matching wools." And she looked at him shyly, dropping a curtsey the while.