The fiery flush upon her face and neck, the
bewitching childish frown of anger corrugating the brow, the dazzling
glitter of the teeth, the quiver of the full scarlet lips above and
below them, turned me dizzy with admiration.
Her eyes met mine, and slowly the violet flames in them began to
soften. Then they died away entirely as she murmured,
'You wicked English boy, if you hadn't--beautiful--beautiful eyes,
I'd kill you.'
By this time, however, Tom had entirely forgotten his grievance
against me, and gazed upon Winifred in a state of drunken wonderment.
'Winifred,' he said, in a tone of sorrowful reproach, 'how dare you
speak like that to Master Aylwin, your father's best friend, the only
friend your poor father's got in the world, the friend as I give
ferret-eyed rabbits to, and tame hares, and beautiful skulls? Beg his
pardon this instant, Winifred. Down on your knees and beg my friend's
pardon this instant, Winifred.'
The poor little girl stood dazed, and was actually sinking down on
her knees on the grass before me.
I cried out in acute distress,
'No, no, no, no, Tom, pray don't let her--dear little girl! beautiful
little girl!'
'Very well, Master Aylwin,' said Tom grandly, 'she sha'n't if you
don't like, but she _shall_ go and kiss you and make it up.
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