I shuddered; but Jack smiled, showing his white teeth almost merrily. "You may see some fun," he said, "but it shan't be death to the frogs; not so bad as that. And I shall have you to be kind to me."
"Kind to you!" I echoed, rather tremulously. (If he only knew how kind I should like to be!) "Yes, I will be kind. But I can't do anything to make up for what you 'll have to bear. You had better go."
"Perhaps I would, if I could take you away with me, but that can't be. And, no, even in that case, I should prefer to stick it out. I should n't like to let that young bounder drive me from a place, whether I wanted to go or not. And do you think I would clear out, and leave him to worry you?"
"He can't," I said.
"I wish I were sure of that. When the beast sees you without your veil—oh, hang it, you must n't let him come near you, you know."
"He is n't likely to take the slightest notice of his step-father's wife 's maid," said I, "especially as he 's dying to marry the American heiress here."
"Anyhow, be careful."
"I shan't look at him if I can help it. And we shall be gone before long. I believe the Turnours' invitation, which their Bertie was bribed to ask for, is only for two or three days. How you must have been feeling when you were told to drive here! But you showed nothing."
"I had a qualm or two when I was sure of the place; but then it was over. It 's far worse for you than for me. And I told you I 've been learning from you a lesson of cheerfulness. I was merely a Stoic before."
