“Very well, Katie; but it is so for all that.”
Her cousin thought a little, and then said,—
“Well, if he does, Sarah, it is only because he sees I would rather he didn't, and wants to bother me. No, no; you may not have to pay your gloves, but you will never win mine. I never heard a more ridiculous idea in my life.”
“Well, Katie, we shall see,” Sarah said. “Now I must be off to bed.”
The next day they were out in the garden, looking for violets, for it was now the end of March. Frank and Miss O'Bryne were a little apart from the others, and he had just made an attack upon Ireland. The girl turned round upon him, suddenly,—
“Why do you always treat me like a spoilt child, Mr. Maynard? Why are you always teazing me and making me mad?”
“Not always, I hope, Miss O'Byrne?” Frank said, seriously.
“Yes, you are,” Katie said, indignantly; “you are laughing at me now. Why do you do it?”
“Do you really wish me to tell you, Miss O'Byrne?”
“Oh, I suppose you are going to invent some ridiculous compliment, but I won't believe it, Mr. Maynard.”
“Well, I shall try to convince you,” Frank said. “Do you like the sea?”
“I don't see what that has to do with the question, Mr. Maynard. But, yes, I do like it—I love it dearly.”
“So do I, Miss O'Byrne. Are you a good sailor?”
“Oh, yes,” Katie said; “I always lived near the sea, and used to go out in yachts. Yes, I am a very good sailor.”
“Then, of course, you enjoy rough weather, Miss O'Byrne? I like, above all things, to see a storm.”
“So do I,” she said, enthusiastically. “I love being out when it is really rough.”
“I suppose, then, you will agree with me, Miss O'Byrne, that no one who does not really love the sea could enjoy a gale.”
Katie thought the proposition over for a second.
“No, I suppose not,” she said. “But I really don't see that this has anything to do with what I asked you—why are you always teazing me?”
“I have been answering your question the whole time, Miss O'Byrne. You have only to suppose you are the sea.”
The girl thought a moment, and then looked up indignantly, with a heightened colour, as she saw the application.
“What nonsense you talk, Mr. Maynard. You will try to persuade me next that to knock a person down is a sign of friendship. I shall never believe you again,” she said, as she turned to join the others.