They would box your pretty ears, my dear; at least Lady Meg would." "That they would not," I answered him.

"And now, please let me pass." "Without a kiss ?" he said mockingly.

"Very well, then, I shall let you go.

But I feel myself a poor-spirited fellow for it.

Do you know that your eyes are like wet violets?
And when do we meet again, my dear ?" However, though he mocked he stood aside to let me pass, which at first I hesitated to do, fearing that he might perhaps seize me in his arms as I passed him.
To my great vexation he seemed to guess at this feeling of mine, for he laughed again and said-- "Don't be afraid, pretty one.