Mrs. Bazalgette kept cool, and wrote, in oils, twice a year to Mrs. Dodd:
“ET GARDAIT TOUT DOUCEMENT UNE HAINE IRRECONCILIABLE.”
Lucy had to answer these letters. In signing one of them, she took a look at her new signature and smiled. “What a dear, quaint little name mine is!” said she. “Lucy Dodd;” and she kissed the signature.
A Month after Marriage.
The Dodds took a house in London and Eve came up to them. David was nearly all day superintending the ship, but spent the whole evening with his wife at home. Zeal always produces irritation. The servant that is anxious for his employer's interest is sure to get into a passion or two with the deadness, indifference and heartless injustice of the genuine hireling. So David was often irritated and worried, and in hot water, while superintending the Rajah, but the moment he saw his own door, away he threw it all, and came into the house like a jocund sunbeam. Nothing wins a woman more than this, provided she is already inclined in the man's favor. As the hour that brought David approached, Lucy's spirits and Eve's used both to rise by anticipation, and that anticipation his hearty, genial temper never disappointed.
One day Lucy came to David for information. “David, there is a singular change in me. It is since we came to London. I used to be a placid girl; now I am a fidget.”
“I don't see it, love.”
“No; how should you, dear? It always goes away when you come. Now listen. When five o'clock comes near, I turn hot and restless, and can hardly keep from the window; and if you are five minutes after your time, I really cannot keep from the window; and my nerves se crispent, and I cannot sit still. It is very foolish. What does it mean? Can you tell me?”
“Of course I can. I am just the same when people are unpunctual. It is inexcusable, and nothing is so vexing. I ought to be—”
“Oh David, what nonsense! it is not that. Could I ever be vexed with my David?”