"Georgie"
There's a bull-finch behind the primrose pasture that would make your hair curl. Georgie can ride—he's promised to tell his mother about the little Welsh boy directly after dinner," she returned to her subject.
"Whew!"—I whistled in my sleeve, if such a thing be possible, and glanced at Georgie.
"He is not at all the sort of person to break a promise," Diana said with her head in the air
"Um!" said I.
But this last event proved her right. Georgie walked boldly up to his mother, holding her pretty court of girls on the big tiger-skin hearth-rug, and I followed up closely across the drawing-room to see and hear what happened.
"Mother," he said in a low voice, "I wish you'd come upstairs with me for a minute or two."
She turned a jolly, laughing face to him.
"Oh, Georgie! I can't come away now."
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