She gave her a wink when John had turned to ask Mark if Lucy could ride home with them. "Poor fellow! I'm glad he has escaped. “He looks as though he did, at any rate. I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,—if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you. The latter took from his pocket a small note-book and pencil. Now you haven’t the ghost of one—not if you play the game fair. It doesn't look bad, does it?" "Mercy, no! That wasn't the thought.
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