But I was far past teasing.
"To think that you should be Dorothy!" I said. "I may call you Dorothy, may I not?"
"Why, of course you may!" she cried. "Are we not cousins, Tom?"
What a thrill it gave me to hear her call me Tom! Of course we were not cousins, but I fancy all the tortures of the Inquisition could not at that moment have made me deny the relationship. Well, we talked and talked. Of what I said, I have not the slightest remembrance,—it was all foolish enough, no doubt,—but Dorothy told me how her mother had been managing the estate, greatly assisted by the advice of a Major Washington, living ten miles up the river at Mount Vernon; how her brother James had been tutored by my old preceptor, but showed far greater liking for his horse and cocks than for his books; and how Mr. Washington had come to Riverview a month before to propose that Mistress Dorothy accompany him and his mother and sister to Williamsburg, and how her mother had consented, and the flurry there was to get her ready, and how she finally was got ready, and started, and reached Williamsburg, and had been with the Washingtons for a week, and had attended the first assembly, which accounted for her knowing the house so well, and had had a splendid time.
"And who was it you sat with here last time, Dorothy?" I asked, for I could not bear that she should connect this place with any one but me.
"Let me see," and the sly minx seemed to hesitate in the effort at recollection. "Was it Mr. Burke? No, I was with him on the veranda. Was it Mr. Forsythe? No. Ah, I have it!" and she paused a moment to prolong my agony. "It was with Betty Washington; she had something to tell me which must be told at once, and which was very private. But what a great goose you are, to be sure. Do you know, Tom, I had no idea that melancholy boy I saw sometimes at Riverview would grow into such a—such a"—
"Such a what, Dorothy?" I asked, as she hesitated.
"Such a big, overgrown fellow, with all his heart in his face. What a monstrous fine suit that is you have on, Tom!"
The jade was laughing at me, and here was I, who was a year her senior and twice her size, sitting like an idiot, red to the ears. In faith, the larger a man is, the more the women seem tempted to torment him; but on me she presently took pity, and as the fiddles tuned up in the great ballroom, she led the way thither and permitted me to tread a minuet with her. Of course there were a score of others eager to share her dances, but she was more kind to me than I deserved, and in particular, when the fiddles struck up "High Betty Martin," threw herself upon my arm and laughed up into my face in the sheer joy of living. But between the dances I had great opportunity of being jealous, and spent the time moping in a corner, where, as I reviewed her talk, the frequency of her mention of Mr. Washington occurred to me, and at the end of five minutes I had conceived a desperate jealousy of him.
"How old is this Mr. Washington?" I asked, when I had managed to get by her side again.