“‘I know it,’ said I, struggling violently with my agitation.
“The major leaned over as if to touch her hand beneath the cloth. I almost sprang from my chair, when Polly, in her sweetest accents, said,—
“‘You must be patient, dear thing, or you may be found out, and then there will be such a piece of work. Though I’m sure, Major, you would not betray me.’ The major smiled till he cracked the paint upon his cheeks. ‘And I am sure that Mr. Monsoon—’
“‘You may rely upon me,’ said I, half sneeringly.
“The major and I exchanged glances of defiance, while Polly continued,—
“‘Now, come, don’t be restless. You are very comfortable there. Isn’t he, Major?’ The major smiled again more graciously than before, as he added,—
“‘May I take a look?’
“‘Just one peep, then, no more!’ said she, coquettishly; ‘poor dear Wowski is so timid.’
“Scarcely had these words borne balm and comfort to my heart,—for I now knew that to the dog, and not to my rival, were all the flattering expressions applied,—when a slight scream from Polly, and a tremendous oath from the major, raised me from my dream of happiness.
“‘Take your foot down, sir. Mr. Monsoon, how could you do so?’ cried Polly.