The Crisis — Complete. Winston Churchill
when I've got to say Miss Jinny,” he added ruefully.
The Colonel rose, laughing, and hit the Captain on the back.
“Drat you, Lige, why don't you kiss the girl? Can't you see she's waiting?”
The honest Captain stole one glance at Virginia, and turned red copper color.
“Shucks, Colonel, I can't be kissing her always. What'll her husband say?”
For an instant Mr. Carvel's brow clouded.
“We'll not talk of husbands yet awhile, Lige.”
Virginia went up to Captain Lige, deftly twisted into shape his black tie, and kissed him on the check. How his face burned when she touched him.
“There!” said she, “and don't you ever dare to treat me as a young lady. Why, Pa, he's blushing like a girl. I know. He's ashamed to kiss me now. He's going to be married at last to that Creole girl in New Orleans.”
The Colonel slapped his knee, winked slyly at Lige, while Virginia began to sing:
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