The next day came the lads Kingston and Charlie Fleming. Kingston
was still 'reading,' and sowing his wild oats broadcast and winning
honours, all in one. Charlie just started on his career, Sir Vincent
best knew how.
It happened that King Fleming found his cousin Deborah alone; she was
reading in her own room, where he sought her. She turned on him with a
sudden rush of colour and defiant eyes: 'You are not invited here!'
Kingston approached as if he trod on eggs, cap in hand. 'Nay, sweet
lady, yet I venture. Deb, you blush! You are reading evil; or is it o'
love? O love, love, thou pleasure pain and torment! That same little
unruly god with his bow and arrows, hath "shot and hit me sore!"' He
sat down opposite Deborah, and gazed at her in his quaint droll way,
that had in it a touch of pathos too.