“Am a hot headed fool, Jack, and have spoil’d thy day for thee.”
“Nay, that you have not,” said I, heartily glad to see her humble, for the first time in our acquaintance: “but if you have forgiven me that which I could not help, you shall take this that I bought for you, in proof.”
And pulling out the mirror, I lean’d over and handed it to her.
“What i’ the world be this?” she ask’d, taking and looking at it doubtfully.
“Why, a mirror.”
“What’s that?”
“A glass to see your face in,” I explained.
“Be this my face?” She rode forward, holding up the glass in front of her. “Why, what a handsome looking gal I be, to be sure! Jack, art certain ’tis my very own face?”
“To be sure,” said I amazed.
“Well!” There was silence for a full minute, save for our horses’ tread on the high road. And then—