"There--there," said he, kindly, "have a little mercy. Hang it
all! Don't make a mountain of a mole-hill."
The official man-hater never moved a muscle. "It is no use her crying to
_me:_ she must give me a _proof_ she is sorry. Fanny, if you are a
respectable girl, and have any idea of being my heir, go you this moment
and bring them home."
"Yes, aunt," said Fanny, eagerly; and went off with wonderful alacrity.
It was a very long apartment, full forty feet; and while Fanny bustled
down it, Miss Maitland extended a skinny finger, like one of Macbeth's
witches, and directed Vizard's eye to the receding figure so pointedly
that he put up his spyglass the better to see the phenomenon.
As Fanny skipped out and closed the door, Miss Maitland turned to Vizard,
with lean finger still pointing after Fanny, and uttered a monosyllable:
"LAME!"
Vizard burst out laughing. "La fourbe!" said he. "Miss Maitland, accept
my compliments; you possess the key to a sex no fellow can unlock. And,
now I have found an interpreter, I begin to be interested in this little
comedy. The first act is just over. There will be half an hour's wait
till the simulatrix of infirmity comes running back with the pilgrims of
the Rhine.
Pages:
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125