‘Yes, Belinda, my love,’ responded the military gentleman to the black-eyed young lady.
‘What have you left me alone so long for?’ said the young lady. ‘I have been stared out of countenance by those rude young men.’
‘What! stared at?’ exclaimed the military gentleman, with an emphasis which made Mr. Cymon Tuggs withdraw his eyes from the young lady’s face with inconceivable rapidity. ‘Which young men—where?’ and the military gentleman clenched his fist, and glared fearfully on the cigar-smokers around.
‘Be calm, Walter, I entreat,’ said the young lady.
‘I won’t,’ said the military gentleman.
‘Do, sir,’ interposed Mr. Cymon Tuggs. ‘They ain’t worth your notice.’
‘No—no—they are not, indeed,’ urged the young lady.
‘I will be calm,’ said the military gentleman. ‘You speak truly, sir. I thank you for a timely remonstrance, which may have spared me the guilt of manslaughter.’ Calming his wrath, the military gentleman wrung Mr. Cymon Tuggs by the hand.
‘My sister, sir!’ said Mr. Cymon Tuggs; seeing that the military gentleman was casting an admiring look towards Miss Charlotta.
‘My wife, ma’am—Mrs. Captain Waters,’ said the military gentleman, presenting the black-eyed young lady.