But to-day seemed pleasantly momentous; it called for the unusual. "I say,
Bibi, when a knight went off to fight, you know, his lady used to give him
a stirrup-cup at good-by. Don't you think it would be really sweet of
you--"
She held off, only to be provoking. She would have thought no more of
kissing Guy than a brother--or she thought she wouldn't. To be sure, she
hadn't for years; there was no occasion; and then, of course, one didn't.
She laughed and shook her head, and retreated laughing. And he promptly
captured her.... She freed herself, suddenly serious. And Guy stood
sobered--sobered not at going to the war, but at leaving her.
"There now, run along."
"Well, good-by." But he lingered. There was nothing more to say, but he
lingered. "Well, good-by. Be good, Bibi."
"It looks as if that was all I'd have a chance to be." The drawl of the
light voice with its rising inflection was so engaging, no one called it
nasal. "And it's so much more difficult and important to be charming!"
He was sobered at leaving her, but he never thought of not going with the
rest. He went, and all the rest.
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