Blushing little Barbara!
It may be that Kit has caressed the pony enough; it may be that
there are even better things to caress than ponies. He leaves him
for Barbara at any rate, and hopes she is better. Yes. Barbara is
a great deal better. She is afraid--and here Barbara looks down
and blushes more--that he must have thought her very foolish.
'Not at all,' says Kit. Barbara is glad of that, and coughs--Hem!--
just the slightest cough possible--not more than that.
What a discreet pony when he chooses! He is as quiet now as if he
were of marble. He has a very knowing look, but that he always
has. 'We have hardly had time to shake hands, Barbara,' says Kit.
Barbara gives him hers. Why, she is trembling now! Foolish,
fluttering Barbara!
Arm's length? The length of an arm is not much. Barbara's was not
a long arm, by any means, and besides, she didn't hold it out
straight, but bent a little. Kit was so near her when they shook
hands, that he could see a small tiny tear, yet trembling on an
eyelash. It was natural that he should look at it, unknown to
Barbara.
Pages:
919
920
921
922
923
924
925
926
927
928
929
930
931
932
933
934
935
936
937
938
939
940
941
942
943