Allen had just written to his mother a
description of his travels, and she was giving Miss McPherson her
version of it. Another lord had joined them, she said, a regular English
swell, and they attracted so much attention, and the people were so
curious to see them, that they were actually obliged to travel in a
_cognito_, though what under the sun that was she was sure she didn't
know. She thought she had been in most everything there was goin, but
she'd never seen a _cognito_, which must be some Western contrivance or
other. At this ludicrous mistake, so characteristic of Mrs.
Rossiter-Browne, Bessie forgot her tears and laughed hysterically until
she heard her mother's name, when she instinctively grew quiet and rigid
as a piece of marble, for what Mrs. Browne said was this:
"And so the poor little critter is dead! Well, I must say she was about
the prettiest woman I ever saw, but I guess she wasn't just what I
s'posed she was when I took such a shine to her. She was a born flirt,
and mebbe couldn't help it, but she might have let Allen alone--a mere
boy.
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