Turning to John, who opened the door and looked in, she said—
"Tell William to make some strong coffee as soon as possible. Mas' Hugh has a headache, and wants some before he leaves."
"Thank you, my angel! my unapproachable Peri! Ugh! how cold it is. Pardon me, but I really must warm my feet."
He threw them carelessly on the fender of the grate.
"Shall I get you a pair of slippers?"
"Could not afford the luxury; positively have not the time to indulge myself."
With a prolonged yawn he laid his head back and closed his eyes. An expression of disgust was discernible in his companion's countenance, but it passed like the shadow of a summer cloud, and she sat down at the opposite side of the fireplace, with her eyes bent upon the hearth, and the long silky lashes sweeping her cheeks. A silence of some minutes ensued; finally she exclaimed—
"Here comes your coffee. Put the waiter on the table, John, and tell Andrew to take Mas' Hugh's buggy."
"Do nothing of the kind! but send somebody to open that everlasting gate, which would not have disgraced ancient Thebes. Are you classical, John? Be off, and see about it; I must start in five minutes."
"Hugh, be reasonable for once in your life; you are not in a proper condition to drive that horse. For my sake, at least, be persuaded to wait till morning. Will you not remain, to oblige me?"