“I am coming up,” he said, casting an apprehensive glance at the house as he balanced himself on the back of the seat. “I suppose I am a fool for it, but you are a regular, possessed little magnet.”
“Have you forgotten about your money?” she asked, exhibiting two rows of gleeful white teeth.
“Confound the money,” he responded, stoutly.
She laughed long and delightedly, but in the midst of her amusement deliberately kept ascending higher and higher, never allowing her laughter to prevent her from searching out sure places for her feet.
Her husband kept his eye on her, yet did not caution her. She was as sure-footed as one of his sailor lads. Now she was singing to him:
“‘Husband, husband, cease your strife, Nor longer idly rave, sir; Though I am your wedded wife, Yet I am not your slave, sir.’
“Go on!” she exclaimed, when she had finished.
“I can’t,” he said, shortly. “Nina, stop there. I won’t have you climb farther.”
“Men in books always know the next verse,” she said, unheedingly:
“‘One of two must still obey, Nancy, Nancy; Is it man or woman, say, My spouse Nancy?’
“It’s man, always man,” she tittered. “When I was married I didn’t say, love, honour, and obey. I said love, honour, and sway--and, ’Steban, you must be swayed. Stay where you are,” and she tossed off a white kid slipper that, to her delight, struck him on the shoulder before it went leaping down to the grass.
“Nina,” he said, commandingly, “did you mean all that just now; or is it only your condemned nonsense?”
She ran her arm around a branch, and waggishly put her two hands up to her mouth after the manner of a speaking-trumpet. “Officer of the watch,--go ask that damsel if she loves me. If so, well, always well. If not, cast her in the hold and let her in irons repent her folly.”
“You do love me,” he muttered. “You shall go home with me to-night. You have come to your senses at last.”
“The man I love has golden hair,” she chanted from the tree-top; “if you meet him anywhere, tell him I send a loving kiss, a hearty, hearty prayer that he will come and see me soon, and with me tread the heavenly mead of love’s sweet visions fair. A sailor dark, with purpose fell, does strive to tear me from my love, my buxom love with golden hair.”