Leonidas understood her perfectly. Mercury was the other name for quicksilver--and that was lively, you bet! He had often spilt some on the floor to see it move. She must be awfully cute to have noticed it too--cuter than his sisters. He was quite breathless with pleasure.
“I put your letter in the box all right,” he burst out at last.
“Sure pop! nary one! The postmaster stuck out his hand to grab it, but I just let on that I didn't see him, and shoved it in myself.”
“You're as sharp as you're good,” she said smilingly. “Now, there's just ONE thing more I want you to do. Forget all about this--won't you?”
Her voice was very caressing. Perhaps that was why he said boldly: “Yes, ma'am, all except YOU.”
“Dear me, what a compliment! How old are you?”
“Goin' on fifteen,” said Leonidas confidently.
“And going very fast,” said the lady mischievously. “Well, then, you needn't forget ME. On the contrary,” she added, after looking at him curiously, “I would rather you'd remember me. Good-by--or, rather, good-afternoon--if I'm to be remembered, Leon.”
She moved away, and presently disappeared among the laurels. But her last words were ringing in his ears. “Leon”--everybody else called him “Lee” for brevity; “Leon”--it was pretty as she said it.
He turned away. But it so chanced that their parting was not to pass unnoticed, for, looking up the hill, Leonidas perceived his elder sister and little brother coming down the road, and knew that they must have seen him from the hilltop. It was like their “snoopin'”!
“You were talking to the stranger,” said his sister breathlessly.
“She spoke to me first,” said Leonidas, on the defensive.
“Wanted to know the eleckshun news,” said Leonidas with cool mendacity, “and I told her.”
This improbable fiction nevertheless satisfied them. “What was she like? Oh, do tell us, Lee!” continued his sister.
Nothing would have delighted him more than to expatiate upon her loveliness, the soft white beauty of her hands, the “cunning” little puckers around her lips, her bright tender eyes, the angelic texture of her robes, and the musical tinkle of her voice. But Leonidas had no confidant, and what healthy boy ever trusted his sister in such matter! “YOU saw what she was like,” he said, with evasive bluntness.