168 The Little Minister

She closed her eyes tightly. Gavin was in a
quandary. I suppose he had looked at her eyes
too long to know much about them.

“ Blue,” he guessed at last.

“Na, they’re black,” said Nanny, who had
doubtless known this for an hour. I am always
marvelling over the cleverness of women, as every
one must see who reads this story.

“No but what they micht be blue in some
lichts,” Nanny added, out of respect to the
minister.

“ Oh, don’t defend him, Nanny,” said Babbie,
looking reproachfully at Gavin. “I don’t see
that any minister has a right to denounce women,
when he is so ignorant of his subject. I will say
it, Nanny, and you need not kick me beneath
the table.”

Was not all this intoxicating to the little min-
ister, who had never till now met a girl on equal
terms? At twenty-one a man isa musical instru-
ment given to the other sex, but it is not as in-
struments learned at school, for when She sits
down to it, she cannot tell what tune she is about
to play. That is because she has no notion of
what the instrument is capable. Babbie’s kind-
heartedness, her gaiety, her coquetry, her mo-
ments of sadness, had been a witch’s fingers,
and Gavin was still trembling under their touch.
Even in being taken to task by her there was a
charm, for every pout of her mouth, every shake
of her head, said, “ You like me, and therefore
you have given me the right to tease you.” Men
sign these agreements without reading them. But,
indeed, man is a stupid animal at the best, and