rain-water? I have
got something very good for you indeed. I have carried it all the way
myself; and only a strong man could have done it. Why, you have got
stockings on, I declare; but I like you much better without them."

"Then, Master Lancelot Yordas Carnaby, you had better go home with all
your good things."

"You are totally mistaken about that. I could never get these things
into the house again, without being caught out to a certainty. It shows
how little girls know of anything."

"A girl can not be expected," she answered, looking most innocently at
him, "to understand anything sly or cunning. Why should anything of that
sort be?"

"Well, if it comes to that," cried Pet, who (like all unreasonable
people) had large rudiments of reasoning, "why should not I come up to
your door, and knock, and say, 'I want to see Miss Insie; I am fond of
Miss Insie, and have got something good for her'? That is what I shall
do next time."

"If you do, my brother Maunder will beat you dreadfully--so dreadfully
that you will never walk home. But don't let us talk of such terrible
things. You must never come here, if you think of such things. I would
not have you hurt for all the world; for sometimes I think that I like
you very much."

The lovely girl looked at the handsome boy, as if they were at school
together, learning something difficult, which must be repeated to the
other's eyes, with a nod, or a shake of the head, as may be. A kind, and
pure, and soft gaze she gave him, as if she would love his thoughts, if
he could explain them. And Pet turned away, because he could not do so.

"I'll tell you what it is," he said, bravely, while his heart was
thrilling with desire to speak well; "we will set to at once, and have a
jolly good spread. I told my man to put up something very good, because
I was certain that you would be very hungry."

"Surely you were not so foolish as to speak of me?"

"No, no, no; I know a trick worth two of that. I was not such a fool as
to speak of you, of course. But--"

"But I would never condescend to touch one bit. You were ashamed to say
a word about me, then, were you?"

"Insie, now, Insie, too bad of you it is. You can have no idea what
those butlers and footmen are, if ever you tell them anything. They are
worse than the maids; they go down stairs, and they get all the tidbits
out of the cook, and sit by the girl they like best, on the strength of
having a secret about their master."