‘My dear, I know that,’ with an arch smile.
‘No, you do not,’ said Phœbe, so stoutly that Lucilla looked at her in some suspense.
‘You think,’ said honest Phœbe, in her extremity, ‘that he only wants to make—to propose to you! Now, it is not only that, Lucilla,’ and her voice sank, as she could hardly keep from crying; ‘he will never do that if you go on as you are doing now; he does not think it would be right for a clergyman.’
‘Oh! I dare say!’ quoth Lucilla, and then a silence. ‘Did Honor tell him so, Phœbe?’
‘Never, never!’ cried Phœbe; ‘no one has said a word against you! only don’t you know how quiet and good any one belonging to a clergyman should be?’
‘Well, I’ve heard a great deal of news to-day, and it is all my own fault, for indulging in sentiment on Wednesday. I shall know better another time.’
‘Then you don’t care!’ cried Phœbe, turning round, with eyes flashing as Lucilla did not know they could lighten. ‘Very well! If you don’t think Robert worth it, I suppose I ought not to grieve, for you can’t be what I used to think you and it will be better for him when he once has settled his mind—than if—if afterwards you disappointed him and were a fine lady—but oh! he will be so unhappy,’ her tears were coming fast; ‘and, Lucy, I did like you so much!’
‘Well, this is the funniest thing of all,’ cried Lucilla, by way of braving her own emotion; ‘little Miss Phœbe gone into the heroics!’ and she caught her two hands, and holding her fast,
kissed her on both cheeks; ‘a gone coon, am I, Phœbe, no better than one of the wicked; and Robin, he grew angry, hopped upon a twig, did he! I beg your pardon, my dear, but it makes me laugh to think of his dignified settling of his mind. Oh! how soon it could be unsettled again! Come, I won’t have any more of this; let it alone, Phœbe, and trust me that things will adjust themselves all the better for letting them have their swing. Don’t you look prematurely uneasy, and don’t go and make Robin think that I have immolated him at the altar of the salmon. Say nothing of all this; you will only make a mess in narrating it.’
‘Very likely I may,’ said Phœbe; ‘but if you will not speak to him yourself, I shall tell him how you feel.’