“Miss Lucy, I have got the Rajah, thanks to you.”
“Thanks to me, Mr. Dodd? Thanks to your own high character and merit.”
“No, Miss Lucy, you know better, and I know better, and there is your own sweet handwriting to prove it.”
“Miss Dodd has showed you my letter?”
“How could she help it?”
“What a pity! how injudicious!”
“The truth is like the light; why keep it out? Yes; what I have worked for, and battled the weather so many years, and been sober and prudent, and a hard student at every idle hour—that has come to me in one moment from your dear hand.”
“It is a shame.”
“Bless you, Miss Lucy,” cried David, not noting the remark.
Lucy blushed, and the water stood in her eyes. She murmured softly: “You should not say Miss Lucy; it is not customary. You should say Lucy, or Miss Fountain.”