'Only if you apologise.'
'Yes.'
'Yes what?' He paused for her answer.
'I do apologise.'
'You admit you've been deliberately wicked?'
'Oh yes.'
He continued towards the door.
She scrambled to her feet and ran after him. 'Please don't go,' she
begged, catching his arm. 'You know I can't bear it, I can't bear it if
we quarrel----'
'Then what do you mean by saying "Oh yes," in that insolent manner?'
'Did it seem insolent? I didn't mean--oh, I'm so tired of this----'
'I daresay. You'll be tireder still before you've done. _I_ don't get
tired, let me tell you. You can go on as long as you choose,--it won't
affect me.'
'Oh do, do let's be friends. I don't want to go on. I don't want
anything in the world except to be friends. Please kiss me, Everard, and
say you forgive me----'
He at least stood still and looked at her.
'And do believe I'm so, so sorry----'
He relented. He wanted, extraordinarily, to kiss her. 'I'll accept it if
you assure me it is so,' he said.
'And do, do let's be happy. It's your birthday----'
'As though I've forgotten that.'
He looked at her upturned face; her arm was round his neck now. 'Lucy, I
don't believe you understand my love for you,' he said solemnly.
'No,' said Lucy truthfully, 'I don't think I do.'
'You'll have to learn.'
'Yes,' said Lucy; and sighed faintly.
'You mustn't wound such love.'
'No,' said Lucy. 'Don't let us wound each other ever any more, darling
Everard.'
'I'm not talking of each other. I'm talking at this moment of myself in
relation to you. One thing at a time, please.'
'Yes,' said Lucy. 'Kiss me, won't you, Everard? Else I shan't know we're
really friends.'
He took her head in his hands, and bestowed a solemn kiss of pardon on
her brow.
She tried to coax him back to cheerfulness. 'Kiss my eyes too,' she
said, smiling at him, 'or they'll feel neglected.'
He kissed her eyes.
'And now my mouth, please, Everard.'
He kissed her mouth, and did at last smile.
'And now won't we go to the fire and be cosy?' she asked, her arm in
his.
'By the way, who ordered the fire?' he inquired in his ordinary voice.
'I don't know. It was lit when I came up. Oughtn't it to have been?'
'Not without orders. It must have been that Lizzie. I'll ring and find
out----'
'Oh, don't ring!' exclaimed Lucy, catching his hand,--she felt she
couldn't bear any more ringing. 'If you do she'll come, and I want us to
be alone together.'
'Well, whose fault is it we haven't been alone together all this time?'
he asked.
'Ah, but we're friends now--you mustn't go back to that any more,' she
said, anxiously smiling and drawing his hand through her arm.
He allowed her to lead him to the arm-chair, and sitting in it did at
last feel justified in taking her on his knee.
'How my own Love spoils things,' he said, shaking his head at her with
fond solemnity when they were settled in the chair.